Helpless
by Turquoise Girl
Summary: Pansy Parkinson is widely known as the Slytherin Slut, but what if it was all a lie? What happens when her family is killed by Voldemort? Will she make it through her last year at Hogwarts? PLEASE PLEASE R&R! WARNING: Rape, torture, killing!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh...  
  
**Plot:** Everyone Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? What if she were only pretending? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try while another tries to get help her. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike...

**Author's Note:** I've noticed how everyone writes Pansy as a crazy ass bitch whose only ambition is to be married to Draco Malfoy. I decided to try my hand at a story told in her point of view. Of course, POV's might change, but it'll mostly be from Pansy's view.

**Helpless  
**  
Prologue

Excerpt from The Daily Prophet, June 28...  
  
** TRAGEDY STRIKES!!  
Three dead! You-Know-Who suspected!**  
  
...Damien Parkinson, his wife, Penelope, and youngest  
daughter, Violet, died in what appears to be an attack  
ordered by You-Know-Who. The Parkinsons' oldest  
daughter, Pansy, was not in their residence at the time  
of the attack and so escaped the doom of her family. It  
was she who discovered the bodies when she returned  
home later that night.  
Draco Malfoy, a close school friend, has graciously  
offered to take in Parkinson for the summer until their  
return to Hogwarts for their final year... 

Pansy Parkinson sat at the window seat in the dark, looking out at the Malfoys' garden sprinkled in moonlight. Barely two days after—after it happened, Draco offered to let her stay at the Malfoy Manor while she struggled to cope with it all. She was now in charge of her family's fortune. Yippee.  
  
She sighed. It was now three weeks since that awful night. The funerals had come and gone. The Prophet was still babbling about You-Know-Who and how everyone should be on their guard. Like that would help. No matter how prepared or guarded someone was, the Dark Lord would always triumph.  
  
Well, except for Harry Potter. He had escaped Him so many times. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't her family have done that as well? Why did they have to die? Her father, although he was a little rough around the edges, was still the best and loving father she could have ever asked for. Her mother, even though she put Pansy through hell trying to find her the perfect husband, was still her mother.  
  
And Violet, sweet, innocent Violet... She had died with her wand in her hand. Pansy was glad her sister at least tried to fight, but she knew Violet never stood a chance. The Dark Lord was too powerful.  
  
But what The Prophet did not report was a letter left for Pansy to find, a letter addressed to her. She could still see it lying on her sister's chest, carefully folded. The graceful handwriting deceiving, it had read:  
  
Pansy,  
Your father has disappointed me greatly. As  
punishment, I took his life as well as his wife's and  
daughter's—except for yours. You have power. I spared  
your life to serve me faithfully. Do not disappoint me.  
  
She had burned it. The Aurors didn't miss it. To them, her father was one less Death Eater. Who cared if he tried to switch to the light, right? Who cared if his wife and child went down with him except one? What a shame. The Ministry had questioned her to great length until Draco arrived and insisted she come to the Malfoy Manor.  
  
He didn't do it for her, but rather for himself and the sake of his family name. Ever since his father, Lucius, and some other Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban, the Malfoy name had suffered.  
  
Yes, it had all seemed so pretty and heroic when Draco publicly disowned his father, no one even brought up the fact that he made no mention of He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Pansy noticed, but didn't say anything. Draco had his reasons for it and she was not about to question him.  
  
When she first arrived at the Manor, Draco laid down rules for her to follow. "I'm not doing this for you, Parkinson, I'm doing this for me," he had said. "The Malfoy name has lost most of its sway, but with your help, it will once more."  
  
Pansy had only nodded. She was still slightly in shock. "Okay, Draco, whatever you say."  
  
"I have to make amends to the Ministry because of Lucius. There will be some parties to attend. I will escort you and my mother to them. I hope you won't disappoint me by making a fool of yourself..."  
  
She didn't hear another word he said after that. All she could hear bouncing around in her head was "...you won't disappoint me...you won't disappoint me..."  
  
Pansy nodded now and then, giving the impression she was still listening. She didn't interrupt him, having learned that lesson the hard way years ago. She let him go on and Draco did like to go on. And why shouldn't he? He had grown up with everything at his beck and call. He commanded a healthy respect and loyalty from the Slytherins at school. Nearly everything he did exuded sophistication, class, and a thin cord of cruelty.  
  
Before, at school, she had received several tongue-lashings from him whenever she displeased him or embarrassed their House. Now, however, Draco wasn't exactly kind, but he wasn't unkind either since she moved to the Manor. Narcissa was happy for the distraction she presented and Pansy was just...Pansy. She felt a little lost and struggled to find her center once more. She didn't eat as much now and Narcissa noticed, but hadn't said anything yet. She was no longer sleeping well, either.  
  
She felt a fraud, a coward. She wasn't home when He had come. She was at a club in London, having the time of her life, while her family died. Pansy was drinking and making out with some boy whose name she didn't know while her family died. So she sat there at the window, wondering when the nightmare her life had become would ever end.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh...  
  
Plot: Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike...  
  
Author's Note: Thank you Lilybee2003 and Vinese for reviewing. I totally appreciate it. Keep with it!  
  
Helpless  
  
Chapter One  
  
_Knock, knock.  
_  
Pansy started awake, her neck felt strained. Gingerly, she moved it into a more natural and comfortable position. She looked around the large bedroom, at the four-poster bed swathed in midnight blue silk, at the black carpeting, at the matching wallpaper. Disoriented, she wondered where she was.  
  
_Knock, knock.  
_  
She gazed at the door and suddenly, it all came rushing back to her. Her family dead, Draco, the Malfoy Manor, the message, the funerals...  
  
"Who—who is it?" she called nervously.  
  
"It is Starry," a high, squeaky voice said through the wood. "Young miss, Master Malfoy has requested your presence for breakfast."  
  
Pansy worried her bottom lip with her teeth. What was Draco about now? In the few weeks she stayed at the Manor, he had never done this. Either he or she was in the parlor when the other arrived. "Okay, tell him I will be down shortly."  
  
There was no answer. Pansy grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. Hurriedly, she took a shower and washed up. She put on a plain blue shirt and a pair of dark wash denim skirt. She decided to forgo makeup for that day which was a major surprise to her. She never went anywhere without make up on. Violet was the only one who objected to that because she thought Pansy looked better without it.  
  
Penelope, however, insisted on it since she was a little girl. Now whenever she looked at herself without it all, she thought she looked weird and unlike herself. Besides, all Pansy wanted was to be as beautiful as her mother was.  
  
Pansy did a quick-dry spell on her blonde hair and left her room for the breakfast parlor where a certain blonde Slytherin waited. She entered the light and airy room, the light blue and white furnishings again coming as a surprise. The rest of the house was decorated in a dark theme.  
  
She wondered minutely on why Draco kept the Manor like that when Lucius was gone, but decided that it wasn't her place to do so. "Yes, Draco?" she asked.  
  
He was looking out the window, his back to her. He turned to face her, taking a sip of orange juice. She became alarmed when he spat out his juice. "Drake, are you okay?"  
  
Pansy crossed the parlor floor to his side. She touched his arm lightly while he stared at her. She withdrew her arm uncomfortably. "I know I don't look like myself, but there's no need to be rude about it," she remarked, her tone biting.  
  
Draco seemed to shake himself. "Forgive me, Parkinson, you—you took me by surprise."  
  
She nodded. You wanted to see me for something?"  
  
He took a slow drink from his glass. Then he spoke. "Do you remember what I said when you first arrived, about escorting you and my mother to some parties?"  
  
She lifted a shoulder. "Vaguely."  
  
He smirked at her. "Did you know, Parkinson, that you are now quite possibly the only Slytherin to talk like that to me? Other than Blaise, I mean?"  
  
Pansy only stared. What is he getting at?  
  
Draco continued. "Well, back to the matter at hand. Have a seat, please." He waited until she sat down to do so as well. "There will be a ball at the Zabini residence this Saturday. We are invited, of course. You will attend, no arguments now, and you will be happy. Or at least appear to be."  
  
She frowned at him. Pansy thought this wasn't exactly what he wanted to talk about, but made a note to bring it up. "I can't promise I'll appear happy, but I'll try."  
  
"Don't try. Do." He checked his pocket watch. He stood. "I must go to the Ministry. Lucius left us in a right state, he did, but it's not enough. I will see you later."  
  
Draco crossed the room and went out the door, but he poked his head back into view, a smirk on his face. "Oh and Parkinson, don't wear any make up to the ball. You look much better without it."  
  
Pansy stared at the doorway in shock. She couldn't believe he actually said it. Draco had barely said a word to her this week and this morning had more than made up for it. There were times when she forgot he was only her age, 17, but his age was never more apparent than when he had spoken his parting words.  
  
"Ooh, the nerve of him!"  
  
Narcissa swept into the parlor. "Good morning, Pansy dear."  
  
She sat down on the chair Draco had previously occupied without looking at Pansy. "The nerve of who?"  
  
"Draco." Pansy shook her head and began to eat.  
  
Narcissa glanced up for the first time, her fork halfway to her mouth. Pansy jumped when the older woman dropped her fork.  
  
She sighed. She should have known. "Cissa, are you okay?"  
  
Draco's mother moved her perfectly applied red lipstick lips wordlessly. Then little incoherent words filtered through. "Wha—you—face—wh—"  
  
"Narcissa, I know I look bad, but I didn't feel like doing anything to my face this morning," Pansy said. She started to say more, but Narcissa stopped her with a hand.  
  
"As glad as I am to hear you sound like your usual self at last, dear, but have—have you ever looked at yourself with no make up on at all?" she asked.  
  
Pansy made a face. "Yes. I look awful."  
  
Narcissa let a rare smile grace her beautiful flawless face. "On the contrary, dear, you are stunning to say the least. Like your mother."  
  
Pansy stared. "What? No, I'm not. You know, this is getting old. Draco said almost the same thing, but I don't believe him."  
  
Narcissa smiled gently. "Of course. It's Draco, but do take my word, Pansy. You look beautiful."  
  
She twisted in her chair nervously and drank some orange juice. She decided to change the subject. "Ahem. Draco said we're invited to a party at the Zabini's this weekend. Did you know?" 


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh...  
  
Plot: Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike...

Author's Note: Again thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming!!

Helpless  
  
Chapter Two  
  
_Last time...  
  
Narcissa smiled gently. "Of course. It's Draco, but do take my word, Pansy. You look beautiful."  
  
She twisted in her chair nervously and drank some orange juice. She decided to change the subject. "Ahem. Draco said we're invited to a party at the Zabini's this weekend. Did you know?"_

-------

Narcissa looked at her a moment. "Yes. It's to be a good one. I understand it is a masquerade ball."  
  
Pansy looked up. "He left that part out."  
  
"He has far too much on his plate to remember every detail. My little boy is growing up," Narcissa sighed. "Sometimes I cannot believe he's only 17, too young to be thrown into this mess."  
  
"I know the feeling. I forget, too, sometimes, and think he is way older than I." Pansy shook herself. She forced herself to say, "But enough of that, Cissa. I don't know what I'm going to wear to the ball. Do you?"  
  
Narcissa tapped a well-manicured fingernail against her bottom lip. "I think I will go as an 18th century noblewoman."  
  
Pansy nodded accordingly. A noblewoman was always a good choice. It never went out of style. "I think I will do the same."  
  
"No, no, no. That will not do, dear," Narcissa said. "You are far too young and your mother would not want that. She would want something entirely different for you."  
  
Pansy resisted the urge to snap out, "My mother is dead. She doesn't know what she wants." But she didn't. Instead, she let Narcissa go on.  
  
"Let me think. Ah! I have it. You will go as a fairy queen!" Narcissa nodded happily. "And Draco will go as your partner and king."  
  
No.  
  
"I don't think that is such a good idea, Cissa." At her questioning look, Pansy elaborated. "Whoever is at Draco's side, will be in the spotlight because he is now Lord Malfoy and you know he's quite the catch at school, right? His partner's appearance will be scrutinized and dissected to pieces. I—I don't think I could handle that right now." Pansy gave her a pleading look. "You understand, don't you?"  
  
The woman nodded slowly. "But you know they will be expecting it, you partnering him. After all, you are living with us and you do want to come, don't you?"  
  
Pansy grimaced. Damn, she was right. She conceded, "I know and, yes, I do want to attend, but—I can't. I just can't. It's too soon. I shouldn't be looking forward to the ball, but I am. For some damnable reason, I am!"  
  
She could feel tears clawing at her eyes, wanting to fall. Pansy stood quickly. "I'll see you later, Cissa!"  
  
She fled the parlor before Narcissa could say a word. She ran down the hall, blinded by her tears. Pansy hit someone when she turned the corner to go up the stairs to her room.  
  
"Parkinson?"  
  
No. Anyone but him!  
  
Pansy panicked. She pushed away from Draco and went back the way she came. She stumbled outside onto the terrace and went down the side stairs.  
  
She ran through the garden, all the way to the back wall. She ran to the large weeping willow tree and collapsed by its trunk, shielded from the world by its signature branches—her solace.  
  
She cried her eyes out, longing for the comforting presence of her sister. Violet was the only one to ever see her cry. Now Narcissa and Draco had seen. Now they knew how she was lost and confused.  
  
Pansy cried harder. She had lost her Slytherin façade. Merlin help her if she went to pieces in front of her friends. What could she do now? Draco knew her weakness now and Merlin help her if he decided to make it public. And he would if he had something to gain from her downfall.  
  
"I hate you," she croaked, her throat raw from sobbing. She took another shuddering breath.  
  
"I hate you," she said more forcefully. She sat up and managed to scream, "I HATE YOU! HOW DARE YOU TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME!"  
  
She fell back to the grass, exhausted, her breathing marred by hiccups. She closed her eyes.


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot: Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_"I hate you," she said more forcefully. She sat up and managed to scream, "I HATE YOU! HOW DARE YOU TAKE THEM AWAY FROM ME!"_

_She fell back to the grass, exhausted, her breathing marred by hiccups. She closed her eyes._

**Chapter Three**

"PARKINSON!" Draco's harsh voice echoed across the garden.

Pansy sat up, her head aching. She had been sleeping soundly until he started yelling. The light coming in through the thin vine-like branches was dim. She must have slept the entire day away.

"Come on, Parkinson. Stop acting the princess and get up here now!" he called.

Pansy scowled. She hated that, being the Princess of Slytherin. Yes, she was spoiled and believed she could get anything and anyone she wanted. That's what got her the reputation of also being the Slytherin Slut.

It wasn't fair. Just because she was caught snogging a few guys in the halls of Hogwarts, people believed she gave it up all the time. They didn't care if she was still a virgin. They believed what they wanted and the Slytherins were no help either.

As far as she knew, no Slytherin male has admitted to having sex with her. They just implied it in case she spoke out and caught them in their own lie. Except for Draco.

He hadn't so much as kissed her no matter how many times she'd thrown herself at him. For the past year, she accepted his decision and quit trying to endear herself to him. Her becoming his wife would never happen.

Pansy hugged her knees to her chest. She could hear Draco calling for her. "Parkinson, come on! Quit being a fucking pain in the ass!"

Her eyes went big. He never cussed at her before despite what most people thought. Then his voice came closer and closer to her tree. "Parkin—Pansy! Come into the house! Please? Mother's getting worried!"

He paused, waiting for her to answer. "Pansy, come on! You got me, Draco Malfoy, yelling your name and practically begging you to come to me! What more do you want?"

How about my family, she thought bitterly, but she had to admit it was funny and ironic. He never wanted anything to do with her when she wanted him. Now he was calling for her, wanting her to come to him.

Funny how that works out.

She breathed silently. He was standing outside the veil of vines.

"Please, Pans?" he whispered. He waited.

She didn't say anything. He moved his hand towards the vines. Her heart pounded. Then at the last second, he drew his hand back.

"All right, Pansy. You won't come to me and I won't force you. I won't pretend to know what you are going through, but you have to pull yourself together, Pans. You know as well as I what will happen if the girls sense weakness. They'll tear you apart and not even I, the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin, can stop it."

Pansy still didn't say anything. She knew what he was saying was true. Hell, she even thought it herself, but she couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She didn't move until he left.

Slowly, she crawled to the vines and peeked through. She could see Draco climb the side stairs to the terrace. He looked back, his blonde hair a beacon lit by the light streaming out from the open double doors. Then he went in.

Why did he feel the need to warn her? Pansy thought. Again, it wasn't like him to show such concern except for himself. Did he—did this mean he cared? Just a little?

The question nagged at her while she waited. What changed his mind about her? Why was he doing this and just before the ball, too? What the hell is going through that blonde head of him?

It was at least two hours before she entered the house . Pansy didn't see Draco anywhere and she was grateful for that. A house-elf brought her a hot meal in her bedroom, probably on Draco's orders.

She decided to confront him in the morning about his motives. She didn't—wouldn't care if he cut her with harsh words. She had to know. He would not be let off the hook.

So she ate and then she took another shower. Pansy slipped on a nightdress and washed up for bed. She decided to do without her nightly vigil at the window and went to sleep.

She didn't hear the bedroom door open slightly as Draco checked on her. He closed the door quietly and retreated to his room.

* * *

The next morning, Pansy went back to the breakfast parlor early. She ate her breakfast and was drinking a glass of orange juice when Draco came in shirtless. Pansy looked away before he caught her oogling his chest. He made it worse when he sat down across from her.

"Morning," he said genially before taking a bite of toast. "Sleep okay?"

"As well as could be expected," she replied. Pansy set down her glass with a shaky hand. She tried to eat again, but the food stuck to her throat. Instead, she tried to talk. No go.

"So, have you decided what to wear to the ball?" he asked her. He took in her appearance with one glance of his pale eyes. "I see you're going natural again."

"Too much effort and, no, I haven't decided what to wear." She didn't mention she was thinking of not going. "You didn't tell me it was a masquerade."

Draco gave her a smirk. "Sorry. I forgot, but my mother probably corrected that problem, am I right?"

Pansy nodded. "She wanted us to coordinate with each other."

"As what?"

Pansy looked at him. Draco was watching her with careful scrutiny. "As a fairy king and queen, but I told her no."

He frowned. "Why not? It's a perfect opportunity to get your life back on its normal track. Well, as normal as circumstances allow anyway."

She looked down at her plate. Pansy whispered, "It just doesn't feel right, that's all."

He snorted—no, scoffed. "When has that ever stopped you, Pans? Just do as Narcissa says and I'll take care of the rest."

"Why are you doing this, Draco?" she asked suspiciously. There. She finally said it. "What's in it for you?"

"The pleasure of your company. You're not as annoying as you used to be and you've raised my opinion of you since—well, you're different now," he finished, giving her an awkward smile.

Pansy wanted to hit him, knock him flat on his self-righteous ass. She didn't need his pity or his lies. She could tell he was lying to her, but he didn't know it. Draco believed his masks were solid, fool proof, but for some reason, not to her. Maybe it was from all those years of watching him, waiting until he was alone so she could ask for a kiss.

She decided to let him believe she accepted his explanation. "All right, fine, but you can't leave me."

"Not unless you leave me first. Deal?" He put a sincere look in his eyes. Damn if that boy was a better actor than she was.

She nodded. Pansy let a note of unease filter in. "I guess. Cissa will be happy at this."

* * *

**A/N edit, 5-17-08: Oh, yeah. Thanks to a certain reviewer (VenusRising) who brought this to my attention, and possibly others, I was notified that Chapter Three was missing. So thanks again.**


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot: Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** Yea!! I did it! I overcame my little illness and persevered. I will say that this chapter was a little difficult for me to write. I have no idea what one does at a formal ball other than what I have read in my mother's regency romance novels. I know, I know. You're probably going "EW!!", but they are very interesting when you want to know what goes on at a ball. Anywho, here it is. Enjoy.**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_She decided to let him believe she accepted his explanation. "All right, fine, but you can't leave me."_

"_Not unless you leave me first. Deal?" He put a sincere look in his eyes. Damn if that boy was a better actor than she was._

_She nodded. Pansy let a note of unease filter in. "I guess. Cissa will be happy at this."_

**Chapter Four**

Pansy stood beside Draco, Narcissa on the other side. She could feel her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She swallowed convulsively.

The three of them were walking towards the large oak double doors. She could hear the soft strings of music and laughter on the other side. Pansy desperately wanted to turn around, to run away from the bright lights and whispers. Instinctively, she tugged her hand away from Draco's arm. He tightened his hold on her. Panicking, she looked at him, her eyes wide. He leaned close. "Breathe, Pansy. It will be all right. Just breathe. You can do this."

She nodded jerkily and gave him a strained smile. Yes. She could do this. She could do this. Just put on the mask she had worn most of her life. Draco was with her. He wouldn't leave her to fend for herself. He made a deal. He would look after her.

Pansy breathed in deep and let it out slowly. She closed her eyes and focused. She opened them and raised her chin. _Do not show weakness,_ the thought repeated in her mind. _Do not show weakness. Do not show weakness._

The doors loomed up close. She smoothed out the skirts of her costume. She was a fairy queen just as Narcissa ordered. Her costume was made of silvery silk and gauzy fabric. The bodice and sleeves were silk and covered her modestly. The full skirts were gauzy and thin, but the slip underneath was silk as well. Narcissa had conjured a pair of silver wings made of the sheerest material. She charmed them to flit gently about her. A delicately crown topped her elegant up do. Tiny white flowers were placed strategically in her hair.

Draco guided them through the open doors where they stood at the top of large marble staircase leading down to the ballroom. The stairs were sprawling, larger than the one at Hogwarts.

Pansy kept her face blank beneath her mask. She did not doubt that the audience facing them—staring at them—knew who they were. What other young blonde wizard would be escorting two fair-haired witches? However, none would say their names. It was supposed to be a masquerade and at such a function, the unmasking would take place at midnight. They each had a mask, held in place by a simple charm except Pansy's was silver, Draco's black, and Narcissa's emerald. Each to match their costumes.

Draco wore a form fitted black tunic, the bottom hitting just below mid-thigh and the sleeves a little puffed out. Silver threads weaved in and out of the fabric. He wore black tights and he wore them confidently. His legs were well formed and muscular, as was his chest and arms. Black gossamer wings, slightly larger than hers, fused onto the back of his tunic. There was a belted silver wrought scabbard at his waist, the thin hilt of the sword decorated in rubies and diamonds like the scabbard. A silver crown adorned his blonde hair.

Narcissa's costume was as she said, an 18th century noblewoman. The emerald green dress looked magnificent on her svelte form. The pure white kirtle showed through the slits in the sleeves. Black lace edgings at the sleeve cuffs contrasted perfectly with the coloring. The dress was not heavy, Pansy knew, and she was glad. Narcissa loved to dance. The emerald mask completed the image. Her silvery blonde locks were piled high on the crown of her head.

She gazed at the people watching them. Her habit of judging what others wore was kicking in. She ticked people off on her scale of 1-10 as she descended.

Was that Millicent Bulstrode wearing a toga? Pansy inwardly winced at the sight. Millicent was not exactly pretty by any standard. Her jaw was too square, her form too big. Millicent was wearing too much green eye make up. Perhaps it was an attempt to feminize her looks. A crown of olive branches perched precariously on her dark head. She wanted to say it was a complete disaster, but it could be salvaged.

Then her heart started pounding harder and her hand tightened on Draco's arm, her panic rushing back at her. At the bottom of the stairs, photographers were waiting. They paused for them to snap a few photos, then they plunged into the crowd. Pansy was aware of the stares directed at her. She wanted to duck her head and hide, but that was too cowardly and Draco would not allow it anyway.

She glanced at him. He gave her a faint smile. He put his other hand on top of hers and squeezed slightly. He leaned close and said, "You did great."

She smiled gratefully. Pansy looked passed him to Narcissa, only she wasn't there anymore. She looked at him questioningly. He shrugged. "She spotted a friend of hers."

He didn't say more. Pansy let him steer her around the floor. They greeted several people although they were careful not to use names. She thought it was stupid. They knew who they were and vice versa, but they all had to play along. No, actually they knew who Draco was. It was just her they were undecided on. Amazing what a difference make up made.

They slowly made their way to one of several refreshment tables where Draco poured her a glass of lemonade. There was also pumpkin juice, butterbeer, and firewhiskey, but she didn't want those.

"Thank you," she murmured when he handed her the glass. She took a long draught. "I needed that."

"No problem." He took her by the elbow and guided her to a couple of seats. They sat down. Pansy was thankful the chairs were out of the way. She took another drink. More people were arriving. A string quartet was up on a raised dais, playing lightly to fill the air. She let the loud buzz of the crowd wash over her.

"You were really nervous, weren't you?" asked Draco, a smirk playing on his lips.

She nodded. Pansy looked at the ballroom. It was huge. The high domed ceiling was shadowed quite elegantly. Swaths of navy blue decorated the walls and there were millions of dancing lights floating in the air above the crowds. Then she gazed at the crowd again. Some were in various costumes of pirates, nobles, and vampires. There were Greeks and Romans, a few Egyptians, gladiators and knights. It was a good turnout, she thought. The Zabinis would be pleased. She looked away to keep from judging them.

"Ready to brave the crowd again, now that you've had time to adjust?" said Draco suddenly.

Startled, she looked at him. He was standing up, his wings moving gently behind him. He held out a hand to her. She placed a shaking hand in his. He pulled her up and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. They moved through the crowd lazily.

They were stopped now and then to talk of the weather or the Ministry. Pansy hadn't the courage to leave his side yet. Then the quartet fired up and began to play a waltz.

"Ah," said Draco. He turned to her. "I don't suppose you would like to dance."

Was it just her or was he taunting her? There was a challenging gleam in his steely eyes. She glared at him. "I would like to dance, but I don't suppose you'll partner me."

He smirked. "I said I would not leave you."

He led her out onto the dance floor. He bowed and she curtsied. Pansy placed her hand in his and her other one on his shoulder. Draco put his on her waist, just below her wings. The music gained momentum and they whirled around the dance floor.

Pansy kept her gaze on his dragon pendant. She didn't want to look out at the other dancers. She could feel the stares on her person and she gripped Draco's shoulder tightly.

"Easy, Pans," he whispered as he pulled her closer.

She shot him a confused look, but he ignored it. Pansy tried to put a little distance between them, but his arm was rock solid. He gave her an amused glance. She swallowed. "You are holding me too close, Draco," she said.

"Don't worry. The dance is almost over." Not thirty seconds after he said this, the music drew to a close. He bowed and she curtsied. Then he settled her hand on his sleeve once more. "Thirsty?" he asked her.

"Yes." Again, he led her to the same refreshment table. He gave her a glass of lemonade while he drank a shot of firewhiskey.

"Hey, man! You came!"

Pansy whirled around. Draco only turned his head. "Hey."

A black haired boy in a dashing pirate's outfit and black mask stopped before Pansy. He procured her hand and bowed over it. "Pardon me, my lovely lady. Forgive my boorish greeting. I did not see your ravishing beauty—"

"There's no need for that, Blaise. It's Pansy."

Blaise turned shocked blue eyes towards her. He asked incredulously, "Pansy?"

"Sh!" Pansy poked him. "It's a masquerade ball—your masquerade ball. You know no one is supposed to know who anyone is."

Blaise rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry. It's just—well, you're—you don't look like yourself."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I've been through this with Draco, Zabini. I don't want to with you."

"But you are so…so…so beautiful. And your costume! Not your usual, uh…" he turned to Draco. "Help me out, mate."

Draco speared her an appreciative glance. "Not her usual whorish outfit is what you mean."

Pansy glared at him in outrage. Draco only shrugged, unmoved by her. Blaise at least had the good manners to look guilty. He looked at his boots and said, "Sorry, Pansy. It's just a shock, that's all."

"Tell me about it," she said, deciding to forgive him. Pansy indicated Draco. "When he first saw me, he spat out his orange juice." She finished her lemonade and a servant came around to collect it from her. She spotted Millicent again.

The girl was standing by the wall, trying to hide her large form behind a fern. Pansy couldn't help but feel sorry for her and a little uncomfortable at the thought of her looking elegant while Millicent was clearly miserable. It just didn't seem right.

An idea took hold of her and began to form in her mind. She nodded to herself. Yes. It would work. She took a step away from Draco's side.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Frowning, she looked back. Draco was staring at her. "And where do you think you are going?"

"To see Millicent," she replied.

Draco glanced at their fellow Slytherin. He laughed derisively. "Don't bother. She's a lost cause." He grabbed another firewhiskey. "Wait. Does this mean I can leave you to watch yourself?"

"Yes. I will see you later." She looked at Blaise. "If you will excuse me, Zabini."

"Save me a dance, my lady?" he asked innocently.

"Of course." Pansy made her way through the bevy of wizards and witches having the time of their lives. She couldn't understand why they were happy. Shrugging, she continued until she popped up beside Millicent. She decided to be blunt. That was how she usually started her conversations with the girl. "Millicent, who did your costume?"

Millicent jumped and then scowled at Pansy. She moved her shoulders. "My mother had it made for me," the girl replied, looking down at her sandaled feet. "She said it was a good choice."

"Well, between you and me, your mum has not a whit of fashion sense. Come on, I'll help you." Pansy took Millicent by the hand and pulled the girl out of the ballroom, down the hall, and into one of many empty rooms.

She locked the door behind her and looked at Millicent. The Slytherin in Pansy was berating her for even allowing this display of weakness. She ignored it. "Now let's see if I can make you decent."

* * *

**So what do you think? Was I consistent or was I scattered? Anywho, review, let me know, okay? I'm writing the next chapter and it's still during the ball. I'll post it when I have finished it.**

**-Turquoise Girl :D**


	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh... **

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike...**

**A/N:**** Wow! A new reviewer! By the by, I'm really sorry I haven't updated lately. I just started college and me getting used to life here, it's been really hectic. I have been writing though, so don't worry. I won't abandon this story! This chapter is really long compared to the others because I didn't want to do three chapters containing just one event, you know?**

**Lilybee2003: Thank you so much! You have been really consistent in your reviews and I love it. I don't have a favorite Pansy fic, but if you know some good ones, let me know, okay?**

**Select Another: I'm sorry you had to register so you could drop me a line. I promise to keep writing, but I can't promise that Draco will be very good or very bad. He's in the gray zone for now. The month is July and she still has to get through August. I'm using this year's calendar as a guide just so you know. That is a good question, should I make Draco Headboy? I'll have to think about it. Oh, by the by, thanks for your review of The Journal. You rock!**

**WARNING:**** There is a rape scene in this chapter. If it offends, I apologize now.**

**So here it is!**

**HELPLESS**

_Last time..._

"_Millicent, who did your costume?"_

_Millicent jumped and then scowled at Pansy. She moved her shoulders. "My mother had it made for me," the girl replied, looking down at her sandaled feet. "She said it was a good choice."_

"_Well, between you and me, your mum has not a whit of fashion sense. Come on, I'll help you." Pansy took Millicent by the hand and pulled the girl out of the ballroom, down the hall, and into one of many empty rooms. _

_She locked the door behind her and looked at Millicent. The Slytherin in Pansy was berating her for even allowing this display of weakness. She ignored it. "Now let's see if I can make you decent."_

**Chapter Five**

"Come on, Millicent. You look great," Pansy coaxed. She felt a little sleepy, but satisfied with herself. She had done the impossible if Draco was to be believed.

"But, Pansy, I don't like it. I don't look like myself," the larger girl whined. "This isn't me and you know it. People will laugh at me."

Pansy closed her eyes in irritation. "Would you rather I change your costume back to its original state or will you tough it out like I know you can?"

"Pansy," Millicent tried pathetically, before sighing. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes! You. Look. Great." Pansy stepped up to Millicent. "Where's that tough-as-nails Slytherin bitch I know?"

Millicent pushed her shoulders back and drew herself up to her full 5'11 height. Pansy smiled at the transformation. She was surprised—no, shocked at the very least—to discover Millicent was actually well formed and perfectly proportioned. Her former dumpy figure was due in fact, Millicent revealed, to the layers upon layers of clothes she wore. That toga must have been at least half a mile long!

Pansy looked upon her handiwork. The white toga had been transfigured into a pale rose dress not unlike those once worn by female Greeks. It was simple but breathtaking. It clung to Millicent's curvaceous body. The sandals were actually fine, so she did not mess with them. Then she redid Millicent's dark hair by rolling it and pinning it in place. She threw in a few braids and placed them strategically. Pansy transfigured the olive crown into a gold-chained headdress and settled it about the girl's hair. Then she cleaned off the green eye shadow and applied a dusky pink shadow, then highlighted with a golden yellow. With a few dustings of blush and lip gloss, Millicent was looking fine!

She smiled and then fixed Millicent's now pale rose mask on her face. "Remember, tonight you are not Millicent Bulstrode. You are a lady, one who has been kept in the dark for too long. It doesn't matter what happens tomorrow. Just live for tonight."

A smile curved Millicent's lips. "Call me Milli, Pansy." Millicent took a deep breath. Then she shot a confused look at her. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm going soft. Perhaps I feel the need to atone for my many sins." Pansy grimaced. That sounded too close to the truth, but then what was the truth? She cleared her throat. "This is my gift to you, Milli, for putting up with me throughout the years. Others would have told me to grow up or shut up. You did neither."

Millicent look down. "I'm sorry about your family, Pans. It wasn't right. Everyone in our year knows it, but none are willing to say it out loud for fear of the Dark Lord."

Pansy checked her anger and sighed. "What's done is done. I can only look ahead and deal with it." She shook her head and pasted a smile on her face. "Well, come on, Milli. It's now or never."

She opened the door and walked out. Millicent trailed after her, one step behind. "Come on. You are my equal, Milli. Hell, perhaps I should be behind you!" Millicent cracked a smile. Pansy said, "Now remember what I said. Tomorrow doesn't matter. Only tonight. Make me proud, Milli."

They reached the ballroom. Pansy stopped to watch Millicent make her entrance. She glanced back fearfully and unsure. Pansy gave her an encouraging smile. The tall Slytherin nodded and drew herself up to her full height and walked in. Pansy was pleased to see that several of the Slytherin graduates of this past year gravitated towards Millicent.

She heard them asking Millicent what her name was and Millicent's rich laugh. Pansy knew this was a dream come true for her. Helping her to achieve it was so satisfying. She leaned against the wall and sighed. If she didn't know better, she would say she had just made a true friend.

Pansy looked around the room for Draco. She spotted Narcissa, but not him. He must be in one of the back rooms with a girl. Before she made her move out into the ballroom, an Egyptian pharaoh came up to her. "Would you like to dance, my lady fairy?"

She nodded. "I would be delighted, sir."

He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Another waltz began to play. Pansy was thankful her partner knew how to dance at least. Some boys were awful at it.

The pharaoh was young, but probably a bit older than she. He was taller than Draco with a more muscular build, like a bear almost. The pharaoh at least obeyed the rules of propriety. There was a certain precedent amount of space between them.

He asked if she was still in school. When she replied yes, he said that was too bad and where was her school. Hogwarts, she replied.

Pansy asked if he was, too, but he shook his head. He had graduated from Durmstrang two years ago. He flirted, saying if he had known she was at Hogwarts, he'd have transferred. She laughed and called him charmer.

When the dance ended, they parted ways. The Pharaoh kissed her on the hand. Then Blaise approached her and asked her to dance. She said yes. It was a simple country dance. Two lines formed, one for the men and one for the women, and Blaise took his place opposite her. The music started up and she looped through the dance, her nerves taut.

This particular one was that each couple would change partners until they had danced with everyone in their set. With a falling heart, she recognized several of the men on the dance floor: Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, Theodore Nott, Terence Higgs, and Miles Bletchley. All were on the Slytherin Quidditch team when they were at school.

Maybe it was a bad idea to dance right now, especially since they kept looking at her rather than at their partners. She held back a shiver. They would have seen it as a sign of weakness and pounce individually or all at once. So, Pansy kept her back straight and her chin high.

She danced first with a middle-aged Caesar. At opposite ends of the opposing lines, they advanced towards one another. The Caesar bowed and she curtsied. He offered his hand and she took it. He smiled gently at her and she returned it. They stepped to the end of the line and separated.

Her heart began to pound. Her next partner was Miles Bletchley. He grinned at her and winked when he bowed. He clutched her hand possessively until he had to let go.

It did not get better. She partnered Adrian Pucey immediately and Theodore Nott following. Terence Higgs was a decent guy whenever he wasn't around Marcus Flint, but that was not the case tonight. He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively while discreetly licking his lips at her.

Almost desperately, Pansy searched for Blaise. He was partnering a black-haired girl. Then came Marcus Flint. Pansy curtsied and he bowed. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when he did not do anything to her, but that would have let him know she had been worried. Her relief was short-lived. When he took her hand, he immediately clasped his other hand about hers. Flint wrapped his forefinger and thumb around her index finger and subtly moved it up and down, implying the sexual act.

She jerked her hand away when they separated. He laughed low so only she could hear him. How dare he!

He had no right whatsoever to do such a thing! As she tried to calm herself, Pansy finally partnered Blaise. He looked at her concerned. She did not try to meet his gaze.

The dance ended and he took her arm, guiding her off the dance floor. She knew she was trembling slightly. Blaise stopped and let her sit down. He took her hand and whispered, "Pansy, what's wrong?"

She sneaked a glance at Flint and the others. They were on the opposite side of the room with others, their peers. Pansy could hear their cruel laugh from where she sat. Blaise repeated his question with a little more force. She shook her head. "Nothing, Zabini."

"Did they do anything to you?" he asked, casting an angry look at Flint.

Pansy stood quickly. She didn't want to deal with this, not with him. "I see Milli. I will see you later, Zabini."

"What?" Blaise's late reply didn't reach her ears. The crowds already swallowed up Pansy.

As she circled the ballroom, taking care to stay clear of Flint and the others, she thought of actually talking to Millicent, but decided against it. Millicent should enjoy her night. She didn't need to be pulled away just to listen to her.

She checked the ballroom for Draco again. He was still missing. She probably guessed right about what he's doing. Although it was possible he could be in one of the card rooms the Zabinis set up, she knew Draco preferred girls to cards any day. He did not come by his reputation for nothing, you know.

She opted to duck into an alcove and watch the people from the shadows instead. Pansy smiled wryly. She had found Millicent in such a situation, would someone do the same for her?

Pansy heard a quadrille starting. While it was similar to the cotillion, she didn't care for it and never danced it. She peeked out and saw Flint, Nott, and Higgs dancing. She frowned. Where was Pucey and Bletchley?

Stepping back out into the room, she craned her neck. Pansy didn't see them anywhere. But she did see Narcissa wave at her discreetly. She nodded back at her. Narcissa turned back to the black-haired vampire she was talking to, smiling.

Pansy turned and nearly bumped into two girls dressed as Egyptian princesses. Or that's what she thought they were.

"Watch where you're going, bitch," the one on the left hissed.

Taken slightly aback, Pansy covered with a glare. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Queen of England?"

The girl on the right snapped, "She's Cleopatra and I am Nefertiri. Or do you not know your history, girl?"

"I was not talking about your gaudy costumes," Pansy replied with a calm she did not feel. "I meant your misconception that you—"

"Good evening, ladies," a smooth drawl cut in. The two girls looked at the newcomer with hard, narrowed eyes, but they instantly melted into fluttering butterflies. Pansy refrained from screaming in frustration to rudely rolling her eyes.

She watched Draco, out of the corner of her eye, turn to her and smile. "My dear, an acquaintance of mine would like to meet you. Are you having a great time?"

Pansy smiled sweetly up at him. "Of course, darling. I missed you and while I searched for you, I met these two...ladies." She was pleased by the tic in his cheek and the hard line of his mouth. Innocently, she asked, "Darling, is everything all right?"

Draco narrowed his cool gray eyes and smiled charmingly at Cleopatra and Nefertiri. "Will you two beautiful ladies excuse us? My dear _wife_ must meet my friend."

The girls giggled idiotically when he kissed their hands farewell.

"Husband!" Pansy cried dramatically. "You know I get jealous when you do such things with other women. You're sleeping on the sofa tonight!"

She spun away from Draco's glowering face and plunged towards the other side of the ballroom where French double doors led out into the Zabinis' garden. Pansy hurried out into the night. The cool fresh air rejuvenated her spirits somewhat. The ballroom was becoming a little stuffy.

The terrace, she noticed, was deserted. Music strained to reach her ears, but Pansy didn't notice. The large fountain at the bottom of the terrace enchanted her. All that she had just been through in the ballroom was forgotten. She went down the stairs and sat beside it, lightly tracing patterns in the softly glowing water.

It was so beautiful. With three marble tiers, bright blue water trickled musically. There were several water lilies near her. She caught the elusive scent and smiled.

"By the stars, what unearthly magic is this? A fairy queen, drawn to the beauty of a fountain," a man exclaimed behind her. "I shall count myself honored to be blessed by such a sight!"

She smiled wider, not bothering to turn around. "Be wary with your tongue, mortal, for if my king hears them, he shall be mad with jealousy. Trust me when I say do not provoke him."

"Ah, she speaks!" he sighed. "But your king is not here, your Majesty."

"He appears when I have need of him most," she said with a light shrug.

The man sighed again. "What is a poor mortal like myself to do? I am captivated by the fairest in the land and I cannot so much as compliment her beauty for fear of her king. But I do know something for certain."

"And what would that be?"

"My friends are detaining your king, sweet fairy, leaving you to me," he replied menacingly, suddenly right behind her.

Pansy tensed and whirled around. She gasped in fright at the look in Adrian Pucey's eyes. He pulled her roughly against him and slammed his lips to hers.

She fought to get her hands between them to push him away, but he was too close. Pansy stomped on his foot and he grunted in pain. A little space occurred, but that no longer mattered to her. His mouth still pressed to hers, Pansy drew her hand back and put all the strength she could muster behind it. Pucey fell back, stumbling. She shoved him to the ground and she ran into the garden.

The Zabinis' was very different from the Malfoys'. For one thing, the small, neatly trimmed hedges she was used to in the Malfoys' were nothing compared to the tall, thick ones of the Zabinis'. She ran, her slippers near silent on the flagstone, and dashed through an arch right of the path. The path she followed twisted left and then right. A fork came up and she went left. The same thing happened.

With a sinking heart, Pansy realized she accidentally got herself lost in a maze. She turned around, berating herself mentally for not going straight back into the ballroom where Draco could hex the hell out of Pucey.

"Got ya!"

Pansy screamed. Two hands wrapped around her biceps and forced her down another path. She pushed back, but he was too strong. Pucey turned again. A shadowed stone gazebo seemed to materialize out of the darkness. He shoved her up the three steps. It was dark inside.

Her mind dimly noted that that was the only entrance and exit. The walls were like bars. She could see out through them, but she could not squeeze through them. Adrian pushed her to the far side and slowly paced across the doorway, watching her.

Pansy took a deep breath and tried to recover her Slytherin mask. "What is the meaning of this?"

He did the Slytherin trademark smirk. "Don't you know?"

"If I did, do you think I would be asking you?" she asked sarcastically. "Now move out of the way."

His eyes traced their way over her body. Pansy became very aware of what she wore. Pucey licked his lips and said, "No. I don't think I will."

Panic threatened to engulf her, but she shook it away. Hysterics wouldn't help her now. Why did she forget her wand at the Manor? Where was Draco?

Pucey glided towards her and Pansy backed away from him until her back came up against the wall. He trapped her body by putting his hands on either side of her on the wall. Pucey leaned in close and smelled her hair. She caught firewhiskey on his breath. He laughed low. "You're so beautiful, but you know that, don't you, Pansy? Yeah, you know. That's why you're wearing that costume."

Pansy shrank back as much as she could, disgust rolling in the pit of her stomach. She refused to cry. Tears would only make him angry and cruel.

He touched her cheek, his finger trailing down her jaw to her chin. Pucey tipped her head back to look into her eyes. She tried to glare at him, scared he would see fear. He smiled. "You're afraid of me."

She began, "No, I'm—"

SMACK!

Pansy suddenly found herself kneeling on the floor. Her hand went to her face. He slapped her? She looked at him in shock, her cheek burning, trying to make sense of what was happening to her.

He pointed a finger at her. "Don't ever contradict me."

She grasped what situation she was in. She wanted to scream, try and draw attention to them, but she didn't know how far from the mansion they were. She felt there was only one thing left to do. With a growl, she launched herself at him, her hands in claws.

Pucey went down hard. A surprised shout wafted from his throat. He tried to ward off her attack on his face with his arms, but decided it was not working. He grabbed her wrists and rolled. She tried to buck off his weight, she couldn't. He was too heavy.

Pansy kicked at his legs. He hit her again. Dazed for a few seconds, she vainly tried to still fight him off. Pucey only took both her wrists in one hand and raised them above her head.

She twisted beneath him.

"Hold still, damn it!" he cursed.

After a minute of struggling, he slapped her again. Pansy opened her mouth to scream, but he stopped her with a hard, bruising kiss. She threw her head from side to side. Pucey stayed with her. His tongue plunged into her mouth and his free hand slid over her ribcage to her breasts.

Pucey squeezed one of her nipples hard and she whimpered in pain. Roughly, he fondled her. Pansy couldn't keep the tears from streaming down her face. Was this really happening to her? Oh Merlin, please be a dream!

"Let me in, bitch," he muttered, forcing her legs apart at the knee. Her hands still trapped in his grip, she felt him slide his free hand deliberately over her stomach to between her legs. He grabbed her hard there and she instantly clenched her thighs together, but his leg was between her knees and he forced them apart again.

His roaming, disgusting hand snatched at the gauzy fabric of her skirt and pulled it up.

"Stop!" she screamed.

Pucey had his hand on her knee. Her dress was bunched up at her waist. She twisted and he slapped her. He moved his lips to her neck and sucked. Pansy felt like throwing up.

His hand skimmed over the waistband of her pantyhose, his fingers searching for a hold. They hooked the waist and pulled. A long rip rendered the air and something gave way to the wind caressing the bare skin of her abdomen. She no longer felt constricted by the hose.

"A thong," he murmured. "How convenient."

Humiliation burned through her as he widened her thighs and settled himself between them, his hip against hers. She arched up and thrashed, but he held on, rode her struggles out like a horse. Pansy could hear him laughing. She felt something poking her down there and then she realized what it was when Pucey unzipped his pants.

She went into a frenzy. Pansy didn't want her first time to be like this. She couldn't—wouldn't handle it! Never!

A sudden rush of power gave her the strength to toss him off. She rolled onto her stomach and scrambled to her feet. Pansy staggered and nearly fell from overcorrecting herself. A hand clamped onto her ankle and tugged. She screamed as she fell hard on the stone. Her arms throbbed from throwing out her hands to break her fall.

Pansy slid back and her fingers scraped harmlessly on the stone, frantically searching for a handhold, but it was too late. Pucey covered her small body with his large one. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. His mouth by her ear, Pucey said, "Do that again and you'll regret it."

_I already regret being born_, she thought.

He flipped her skirt up and she felt vulnerable, her backside to him. She couldn't fight him in this position, not facing him. Pucey chuckled. "Good thing you're wearing a thong, Pansy."

She shivered in fright as he gripped her hips possessively and pulled her into a kneeling position. Pansy felt the heat of his body. Tears came again. One finger traced a lazy circle on her lower back. She panicked and raced forward, but Pucey managed to get a handful of her hair and pulled her back against him.

_Draco, where are you?_

His finger touched the waistband of her underwear and followed the thin strip of fabric down.

She froze. He chuckled again, taking pleasure in her terror.

He moved the fabric to the side. Pansy could barely breathe. The rustle of fabric behind her reached her ears. "I won't lie. This will hurt...for you." Pucey laughed, his hand grasping her hip.

A sob escaped her lips. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening. The thought became a mantra.

His fingers flexed and tightened. She felt something touch her, prod her. Then he surged into her. Pansy screamed in pain. She couldn't move.

"_IMPEDIMENTIA!_" someone roared. A flash of light lanced across her vision and it was gone.

Pansy felt alone and she realized that Pucey wasn't on her any more. She collapsed fully on the ground, curling into a ball, sobbing, not caring who heard her.

"Pans?" A voice pierced through her ragged sobs. "Pansy, it's okay. He won't hurt you again."

She thought she recognized the voice. She raised her head a little and looked into cerulean blue eyes. "Blaise?"

"Yeah, it's me." Concern shone in his face. There was anger, too, but a weird look of satisfaction as well.

Pansy didn't pay any of it any attention. She threw herself in his arms. "Oh, Blaise!" she cried. "I tried to get away, but he was too strong. He was too strong."

He held her lightly, perhaps sensing that she was fragile right now. Hold her too hard, to tight, and she would break. "Sh," he crooned. "It's over now."

"W-wh-where-where's D-Dr-Draco?" she asked, hiccupping.

"He's over there, giving that fucking bastard the beating of his life." Blaise's voice was gloating and full of pleasure.

She became aware of the sound of flesh hitting flesh and then the dull sound of someone kicking another person. Low moans of pain mingled with pleas to stop. She turned before she could think otherwise.

What she saw made her gasp, but a second later, her heart took savage joy in it.

Adrian Pucey was lying prone on his back by the wall, his face hardly recognizable with all the blood and gore. Draco, his hands holding his weight against the wall, was kicking Pucey's stomach and ribs as hard as he could. She heard a snap and Pucey cried out.

"Draco?" Pansy called. He didn't hear her. "Draco!"

He twisted and looked at her. She pressed up against Blaise in alarm. Draco wasn't wearing his black mask. The calm, cool, and collected Draco Malfoy she knew was gone. This Draco Malfoy was flushed and breathing hard. His gray eyes were fierce and wild. His normally gelled hair was now tumbled. He was baring his teeth like an animal and flecks of blood stained his flushed skin.

"Pansy?" His voice was rough and harsh, not his usual smooth as silk accents.

She nodded slowly. A tear fell, but she didn't notice. Did Draco really do that to Pucey? Why?

He glanced at Pucey and crouched down. Draco took a handkerchief from his sleeve. He lightly wiped blood off of Pucey's face. He tsked disdainfully. "Adrian Pucey, your crime is great and you've dishonored my house and name. I should really finish the job, but I think you've had punishment enough. If I EVER catch you looking at her or near her again, if I even get a whiff of your stink on her, I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat. Then I'll kill you." Draco kept on wiping gently. "Do you understand what I've just said?"

Pucey barely moved his head, nodding.

"Good because what I've just said is what will happen if I'm in a good mood. If you cross me in any way, Pucey, I will brand the word 'Rapist' all over your face and body. Then I'll castrate you. I won't kill you. I would let you go through life as a eunuch, not good for anything but being ass fucked." Draco slapped the bloody handkerchief at Pucey and tossed it on his face.

Pansy could only stare at Pucey's limp form. He had hurt her, raped her. Oh Merlin, would she ever be clean?

She tore out of Blaise's arms and ran out of the gazebo. She cried out in pain. Her lower abdomen ached and hurt every time she took a step, but she had to get away.

"Pansy!" Draco called out to her, but she kept going. "Pans, stop!"

She stumbled on the path and fell. She stayed where she lay. Pansy started to cry again. No, it didn't happen! It couldn't. No!

Hands lightly touched her and she flinched away.

"Pansy," Draco murmured. He put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Pansy fought him. She hit and punched as hard as she could. All the while he said, "Don't hold back, Pansy. Let it out. Just let it all out. Do it."

She finally stopped from exhaustion. Draco held her tighter. She heard him whisper softly, "I'm sorry, Pans. I should've been here. This is all my fault."

Then he stood up with her still in his arms. He turned. "I'm taking her home now, Blaise. Will you please see to it that my mother gets home?"

"Of course, Draco. Uh, what should I do about that fucker?" Blaise asked, his voice hard.

Pansy burrowed her face into Draco's neck. Blaise almost sounded like him.

"Sh, easy. It's okay," he said gently to her. To Blaise, he said, "Leave that pile of shit there. If he's not gone by morning, do what you want to him. No one will miss him."

"Are you certain, Draco? I mean, the Dark—Ow!"

"Watch your words. I'll leave you to it, then, Blaise."

"Will she be okay?" he asked quietly.

"I..." For once, words failed Draco. "I don't know. I hope so."

"She's tough. Pansy will beat this." Blaise sounded falsely confident, but Draco didn't say anything about it.

"I'll see you."

"Yeah."

Draco tightened his hold on her and CRACK!

They apparated back to Malfoy Manor.


	7. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while ****wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh... **

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. Well, there is one person, but they hate each other too much to even try. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike...**

**A/N:**** Dudes! Hey, sorry for the delay. I'm sure you guys understand. Well, here's another chapter. I'm so proud of myself. And Jen nite and Me, thank you for reviewing. I totally appreciate it. So here is Draco's POV. I think I did an okay job, but he might not seem like himself (i.e. a cold Slytherin) and questions might be raised, but what will be will be. **

**Select Another: Yes, he did rape her, but didn't last long. Pansy's going to be a little withdrawn for now, but who knows what could happen. Am I right? Millicent isn't chubby, but rather...muscular and toned, which paired with layers of clothes makes her look bulky. I think I'll let you stew over the Blaise question. As for the pairings, I really love the Draco/Hermione, Draco/any female. I don't really like slash, but I respect those who put them out. You made my day, you know? 'Like an indie author' is something I never expected. Thank you, thank you! **

**Lilybee2003: I'm sorry you got depressed, but, yeah, that was the point. Like I said to Select Another, I'll let you stew about Blaise. Work up some suspense, right? No, I'm just evil that way. I'm still 'working him in.' Get it? Just kidding. I'm glad you understand about the whole college thing. I have started to read Pariah on schnoogle and it's so witty. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing in the computer lab. **

**Helpless**

_Last time..._

"_Will she be okay?" he asked quietly._

"_I..." For once, words failed Draco. "I don't know. I hope so."_

"_She's tough. Pansy will beat this." Blaise sounded falsely confident, but Draco didn't say anything about it._

"_I'll see you."_

"_Yeah."_

_Draco tightened his hold on her and CRACK!_

_They apparated back to Malfoy Manor._

**Chapter Six**

He could hear her crying again. Guilt surged through him again. He could not count how many times in the last week that feeling swamped his insides. Anger rode over the guilt just then. Why should he feel guilty? It wasn't his fault what happened.

_But it is_, a small voice whispered. _You knew she would be a target. You knew she was vulnerable. You knew the others would pick up on it._

He could still hear her crying.

"But Voldemort said nothing would harm her," Draco said to his empty bedroom.

_What he says is different from what he does. You know that_, the voice replied.

He hung his blond head. It was right. He shouldn't have trusted Voldemort when it came to Pansy.

Why was she so important? What was her part in all this?

Draco sighed. She was still crying.

He closed his eyes and once more saw that night.

_Pansy was gone. He couldn't find her anywhere. Flint, Higgs, and Nott flagged him down. They wanted to talk about Voldemort's plans regarding the Ministry. Why they had such a sudden interest pricked his awareness. He observed Nott glancing more than once towards the terrace. Flint didn't seem to be in the conversation, like his attention was elsewhere. Higgs was more talkative than usual, way more talkative._

_Draco saw Narcissa and made an excuse to talk to her. He had asked if she had seen Pansy, but she hadn't. Suspicion reared its head and he searched the ballroom for Flint and the others. He saw Nott's back as he disappeared onto the terrace. He started after them. Blaise intercepted him._

"_Not now, Blaise," he snarled._

"_What's going on?" Blaise asked seriously._

"_I can't find Pansy anywhere."_

"_Huh, that's funny. I saw her go outside. That Adrian Pucey followed a minute later. They're not back yet."_

_Draco felt a sudden chill unlike he had ever known. Something was happening. He pushed passed Blaise, ignoring his friend's question. _

_Outside on the terrace, a light breeze danced across his warm face. Draco tore off his mask as he scanned the near area. He spotted a darting shadow move into the Zabini maze. He ran down the stairs, a low rumble started in his ears._

"_Draco!" _

_He ignored Blaise as he started after the shadow. If memory served him correctly, there was a gazebo in the heart of the maze, but he couldn't remember the exact location._

"_Shit!" He skidded to a halt and Blaise bumped into him, unable to avoid Draco. He turned to Blaise. "Where's the gazebo? I can't remember."_

"_Why? What's going on?" There was a certain edge to Blaise's voice._

"_Pansy. She's in trouble." He looked ahead to the maze's entrance. _

"_Follow me." Blaise ran into the maze and Draco ran after him._

_Almost immediately, they caught up with three figures. Blaise stopped. "Hey! The fuck are you guys doing here?"_

_Flint turned first, a leering smile on his lips. "Zabini, Malfoy? Come to join the party, have you? You'll have to wait for your turn, though."_

_The pit of his stomach started to churn and Draco suddenly found it hard to breathe. "What do you mean, Flint?" he grounded out._

"_Pucey's breaking her in for us," Nott said. There was a piercing scream to stop from the gazebo behind them. Flint and Higgs laughed cruelly. Draco looked at the shadowy structure. _

_The rumbling became a steady roar. He didn't hear himself ask, "Her?"_

_Nott smirked. "Parkinson. Of course, I think you already might have had a sample what with her living with you—" _

_He saw his fist hit Nott in the nose. Blood splattered everywhere. Panic thudded painfully in his chest. Nott cried out and grabbed at his nose as he fell on his ass. _

"_What the hell?" he yelled. Draco drew back his foot, momentarily grateful he had worn boots instead of slippers like his mother wanted, and kicked as hard as he could. Nott screamed and grabbed at his stomach._

"_Malfoy—" Flint was cut off when tackled by Blaise, leaving Higgs to Draco._

_Draco also tackled the former Slytherin as Higgs struggled to draw his wand. Higgs hit the ground hard and Draco straddled him. He slammed a fist into Higgs' face._

"_Malfoy—" SMACK! "—what are you—" POW! "—doing?" Higgs asked between punches. "It's only Parkinson."_

_That made him even angrier. Why did everyone always say 'It's only Parkinson'? He kept on hitting and didn't stop until he heard her scream again. _

"_PANSY!" Draco shot up off of Higgs and ran towards the gazebo. The distance seemed like miles. Time slowed. _

_Please, oh please, please let her be okay. Draco reached the stairs and stopped dead. _

_There she was. Tears stained her face and her hair was every which way._

_Oh please._

_Pucey was behind her, gripping her by the hips. Pucey saw him, smirked, and tipped his head towards him before thrusting. _

_Pansy screamed. Her eyes shut tight._

Red clouded his vision. All Draco saw was Pucey. Wand drawn, Draco bellowed, "IMPEDIMENTIA!"

_Pucey flew back and crashed against the wall, leaving spider web cracks in the stone. Draco raced passed Pansy and drew up Pucey by the collar. He slammed his fist in Pucey's stomach again and again. Then he started on Pucey's face taking savage delight in the way his rings cut into the other's face._

_He dropped Pucey to the floor and started to kick the shit out of him. Rage at being betrayed by one of his own was nothing to the immense guilt he felt, that deep despair knowing he had failed in protecting what was his. When he felt Pucey's ribs snap, he growled deep in his throat in satisfaction._

_Then he heard her say his name._

"Draco, you must do something to—" his mother stopped. Then she asked, "Why are there feathers everywhere? Is that your pillow?"

He opened his eyes and took in his room. White feathers on the floor, on the bed, in the bookshelves, how did they get there? Then he looked down at his hands. His pillow was clenched between his hands. It was limp.

Draco dropped it. Then he turned to Narcissa. "What's wrong?"

"It's Pansy. I can't get her to stop crying."

He listened and heard her. He put his hands on his face wishing he had watched over her rather than having fast sex with some princess in one of the back rooms. He had failed. Draco took her in, knowing some of her pain, but he told her it was for the sake of the family name.

He had worried about her in the days before the ball and now it was worse. On top of that, Blaise had owled him saying Pucey had gone before daybreak. His friend's words expressed a sincere regret for not killing him right then and there.

"What do you expect me to do, Mother? She won't even open her door to me," Draco said after dropping his hands to his hips.

Narcissa sank into one of the chairs by the fireplace. "How could this happen, Draco?"

"I know."

They stared at each other for the longest time before Draco started towards the door. He opened it silently and looked at Narcissa. She was staring into the fire. He turned away and walked down the hall to Pansy's room.

She was crying, but not as loud as before.

It tore at his heart and he wished he could make it all better, but he couldn't. He had tried that night when they came back.

"_Pansy, you're home," he whispered._

"_I have no home," she replied listlessly. Her pale face was blank, emotionless._

_He carried her to her room and set her on the bed. Merlin, she looked awful and it was his entire fault. _She probably wants a shower, _he thought._

_Draco started pulling at the limp wings on her back and tossed them aside. He pulled the ribbons and pins from her hair. He hesitated at touching her costume._

"_Pans, I—you have to take off your costume." Draco touched her shoulder lightly and she jerked away. Her eyes flickered with some emotion he did not know and she grabbed a handful of her costume and tugged. The fragile fabric tore easily and he looked away to give her some privacy. He had grabbed a robe and held it out to her. She didn't take it._

_He chanced a quick glance and caught sight of her going into the bathroom. He heard the shower going. He went over and tossed the robe onto the sink. Draco went back to the bed, not quite wanting to leave just yet. Then he heard the scream._

_Draco ran into the bathroom and found her sobbing wildly in the tub, curled into a ball. Her normally pale skin was pink and he could see that she had scrubbed herself raw. Her blond hair, darkened by water, was plastered to her head and body. He could see bruises forming on her arms and body._

_With a curse, he shut the shower off. Draco draped a towel over her and raised her out of the tub as gently as he could. Her hair dripped over the front of his costume, but he didn't care. _

_He carried her back to the bed and went back into the bathroom for another towel after wrapping the other one around her body. Then he sat on the bed next to her and rubbed her hair dry as she cried. He stood to get another towel when Pansy grabbed at him._

"_Don't leave me. Don't leave me." The words sounded hoarse coming from her. She held him tighter. Rubbing her cheek against his chest, she murmured, "Don't leave me, please?"_

_He wanted to push her away then. Panic nearly drove him to, but he swallowed it back and gingerly pulled her closer. He held her as she started to cry harder. He wanted it to stop. Why couldn't she stop? _

_Draco didn't know how it happened, but suddenly he was kissing her. She tensed up in his arms and hit his chest. He kept kissing her gently but firmly until she gave in. Pansy held tight to his shirt as she pressed up against him._

_She pulled away, kissing his jawline. "Make me forget, Draco. Please?"_

"_Pansy, you're in shock," Draco said. "You need to rest."_

_She pulled his face down to look at him. "I need to forget. Help me." Tears formed in her eyes. "I'm so scared right now."_

_He closed his eyes in defeat and began kissing her again. As he lowered her back on the bed, she tensed in his arms. He continued kissing and not doing anything else until she relaxed. He lightly touched the side of her face and down to her neck. His lips still on hers Draco cautiously moved his hand down to her bare shoulder. _

_Pansy didn't tense up. He shifted his hand to her hip and waited. A small tremor traveled up her slim body, but she just moved against him even closer. _

_Draco gently stroked the curve of her hip and then pulled the bottom of the towel up a little. She murmured a protest, but she did not repeat it. He lightly touched the skin on her thigh before moving up to where her thighs met._

_She gasped and tensed. Draco pulled away to look at her face, but he kept his hand at the apex of her legs. She looked a little scared and her eyes became unfocused. Pansy's breathing became uneven and ragged._

Too far,_ he thought. _I pushed her too far.

_He moved away from her and said her name. "Pansy? Look at me."_

_Her swollen red lips moved, but he didn't hear anything. Draco leaned close and caught her words. "Go away."_

_He had never felt so torn in his life. He wanted to make her better, but she was fragile and wanted him to leave her alone. Which was the right thing to do?_

_In the end, he nodded, accepting her decision. Draco rolled off the bed and walked out. He summoned a house-elf and ordered it to look after Pansy. If she became unstable at any time, it was to come to him at once._

He knocked on her door.

Her sobs ceased at once. She called out. "W-who is it?"

"It's Draco, Pans," he said through the door.

"Go away."

He sighed in frustration. "Let me in. We have to talk."

Silence.

"I've given you a week to get over it, Pansy," he said. "Don't make me kick the door in."

"Just leave me alone." Her voice cracked and she started crying again.

Draco rattled the doorknob, checking if it was locked. It was. He hit the door once. "You can't hide in there forever, Pansy. We both have one more year to go at Hogwarts. I—"

"Master," a squeaky voice said. "Master, there is a young gentleman waiting in the front hall. He wants to speak to you."

He looked at the house-elf. It twisted its skinny thin hands nervously under his gaze. The stained white pillowcase wrapping its body was pathetic. Draco suddenly wanted to kick it down the length of the hall, but quelled his impulse. Instead he answered, "Thank you, Roddy. Go back to your chores now."

"Yes, Master." Roddy scampered off presumably to finish sweeping out a room or something of the like.

Draco cast one more glance at Pansy's closed door and walked away. He stopped at the railing overlooking the first floor, the front hall. "What can I do for you, sir?"

The young gentleman as Roddy called him looked up at Draco. "Lord Malfoy, I presume?"

"Yes, and might I have the honor of _your_ name?" Draco asked lifting a brow. The man looked familiar, but he could not place him. He had seen him somewhere.

"My name is not important, my lord."

"What business brings you to my home?" Draco asked, walking towards the staircase and down it. He stopped in front of the man and noticed he was taller than this visitor was. That pleased him immensely.

"I come on the behalf of He that we both serve," the man answered cryptically.

Anger filled his being, but he kept himself from showing it. "Oh?"

"He wishes to see you now." The man inclined his head respectfully.

Now he remembered. Draco had seen him at a few of the meetings. The man had graduated from Hogwarts when he was in fifth year. He had been a Ravenclaw. His name was Matthew York...Yeats, something like that.

"Now?"

"Now." Matthew's dark eyes were shuttered. Draco could not see any hint of what awaited him.

"Fine." Draco summoned a servant, leaving word for his mother that he had gone out.

They apparated to a lone house located on a grassy hill out in the middle of the country. Draco went up to the front door followed by Matthew and knocked three times, once, a pause, and then twice rapidly. It was a code of sorts the people using the house used.

A peephole about eye level with Draco opened and he saw hard, beady eyes staring out at him. A gruff voice asked, "What is your business?"

"He wants to see me," was all Draco said. There was no more elaboration on which 'He' was. The peephole shut and the door opened.

The guard murmured, "My lord."

He walked in without a glance at Matthew or the guard. Matthew had done his job and whatever he did now was none of his business. Draco went passed the front room and turned down the hall to the right. He passed three doors and opened the fourth door. It wasn't a room but a spiral staircase that went down to the lower floor.

Draco came off the last step and walked down the dark hallway. Torches lit the way in their brackets casting shadows on the stone walls. He halted in front of the heavy oak door at the very end of the hallway. He knocked twice.

"Enter," a high, cold voice said.

Draco did not even flinch. He had gotten used to that voice throughout the past year and summer. Briefly he wondered what that said about him.

He swung open the door and stepped inside. He closed it quietly. "You wanted to see me, my lord?"

The room was furnished comfortably. A roaring fire was going in the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. Two armchairs were positioned in front of it. He could see an elbow peeking out from the side of the chair, but that was all.

Then he spoke. "Draco... I have asked you repeatedly to call me Voldemort, but no matter. How I have missed our conversations! Where have you been?"

Draco moved closer to the fire and sat down in the other chair. He shrugged. "I have been busy. Lucius, for all his _generous_ donations, did not leave the family name in good graces. I've been cleaning up his mess."

"How does it feel to be _Lord_ Malfoy, Draco?" Voldemort's voice held a note of satisfaction and pride. It was probably because everyone believed Lucius Malfoy was in hiding. It wasn't true.

"I don't care much for the paperwork and kissing babies and publicity. It's all so very tedious." Draco looked over at him. He wondered if he should bring up Pansy, but decided to leave that for later. Instead, he asked, "And how goes your plans?"

"I am surrounded by idiots." The reply was deadpan and a little unsettling considering his voice never varied from its high-pitched coldness. Voldemort, his face as white as ever, looked sullen. "They follow my every order, but do they think on their feet? No, they do not."

"What can you expect, my lord? Followers are followers." Draco turned and gazed into the fire. "Yes, you have some fine followers like—"

"Yourself?" Voldemort interrupted.

"You do me an injustice, my lord. I do not count myself as a good follower like MacNair, Bellatrix, or even the Nott family," said Draco, shaking his head.

"You do _yourself_ an injustice, Draco. You are the finest of all that follow me just because you do not follow blindly. I have always liked that about you. Your comrade, Blaise

Zabini, also ranks high beside you." Voldemort laughed. "Oh, yes, it will be the two of you who will lead the next generation into darkness."

"What makes you so sure about me?" asked Draco seriously.

"Unlike Lucius, you are strong. I have no doubt that once I become senile, it will be you who will succeed my throne. You are smart, ambitious, and ruthless and you stick to your guns, as the Americans say, no matter the cost. Of them all, I would choose you because you go by your own will, not mine."

A little embarrassed and sure that he was flushing, Draco tried sinking deeper into his chair. "Spare me my blushes, Voldemort. I might need them this coming year."

Voldemort laughed. It was a cold sound that should have raked across his nerves, paralyzing them, but didn't. "You are so refreshing, Draco. Unlike Lucius, or any of the others in fact, you actually argue with me. I trust you."

_Now's a time as good as any_, he thought. "May I be blunt, sir?"

"Of course. You are welcome to say what you please, Draco." Voldemort turned his scarlet, slitted eyes at him.

"I do not know if I can trust you."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't."

"Then you know what I'm about to say." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. You want to know why I let such a thing happen to that Parkinson chit. Well, to be blunt as well, Draco, she had to be taught a lesson." Voldemort's eyes narrowed even more.

"But why? Wasn't losing her family enough for you?" Draco asked, rising from his chair.

"Did you know her father was about to turn?" asked Voldemort softly. Draco stopped his pacing and looked in horror at the old wizard. "He was going to switch to the light side."

"Are you sure?" Draco didn't want to believe that Pansy would have turned as well.

"I am very sure. My informants told me of his imminent treachery."

"Then why didn't you kill Pansy as well?"

"Pansy, is it?" Voldemort asked lightly, but didn't pursue that tack. "_Pansy_ has a part to play in my plans. She will be important in the final battle."

"But why?" he asked angrily. "Why did you allow a bastard like Pucey...do—touch—her?"

"Would you have volunteered for the position if you had known? I doubt you would have been rough on her. She is after all in the same year as you," Voldemort said. "No, I thought it best if someone not close to her carried out my order."

Draco shot a murderous glare at him. "If you think to win her over to the dark side by playing that card, you won't get far. She's now more likely to finish what her father started and switch to the Light."

"And what do you suggest, Draco? How do I—we—convince her to stay with us?" he challenged.

"Well, watching that fucking bastard Pucey suffer might bring her out of her shell, but perhaps killing him will go a small way to soothing her spirit. I dare say she'll be looking for a fight." Draco smiled grimly at the memory of Pucey's bloody battered face.

Voldemort sighed. "I did not appreciate your beating of him, Draco. He amused me by his attempts to please me."

"Then you should have chosen another." Draco raised his chin stubbornly.

"May I ask why you beat him so viciously? Was it because I did not enlighten you of my plan that night?"

"He touched what is mine," Draco enunciated carefully. "When I took her in, I let her believe that I was doing it for my family's sake. It wasn't true. The truth was I did it to protect her. I knew she was vulnerable after the death of her family, so I offered her a place to stay, to grieve, safely. But when you sent that despicable son of a bitch after her, you showed that I had failed in my duty to defend her. I do not appreciate that, my lord."

"I am sorry you feel that way, Draco. I suppose what I had in mind could have been executed another way," Voldemort conceded. "But what's done is done. By the way, I am told you also broke Theo Nott's nose and Terence Higgs' jaw. Very barbaric."

"Thank you," replied Draco sarcastically. "But I want Pansy to recover a bit first. I think she's in denial over the whole thing. Once she has accepted it has happened, she will enjoy Pucey's suffering more."

"I sincerely hope so," said Voldemort, smiling. "Oh yes, once we have her, she will be unstoppable."

Draco looked quickly at the other wizard. What the bloody hell had he meant by that? But before he could say anything, Voldemort sighed deeply and said, "Go back to her, Draco. I suspect only you will get through to her."

"I doubt that, my lord," said Draco, speaking from his heart.

"I have confidence in your abilities, son." Voldemort settled more deeply in his armchair. "Go on, off with you."

"All right. I will see you later, I presume?" he asked.

"Of course, Draco."

Draco nodded and left the room. After leaving the house, he apparated back to Malfoy Manor. He walked through the formal dining room to get to the kitchen. He stopped dead at the sight of Blaise sitting beside the end of the long table eating a sandwich.

Blaise looked up from a big bite, his cheeks bulging. A few large chews and his mouth was clear. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "About time, Draco. I've been waiting for a fucking hour."

"Then you should have left," snapped Draco. He felt his talk with Voldemort was unsatisfactory.

Blaise raised his brows. "I take it your...little meeting didn't go well."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "And how would you know of it, Zabini?"

"Your mother told me." Blaise spread his hands. "Come on, Draco, relax! Go get something to eat and come back in here. Maybe by then you'll have calmed down."

"Fucker." But Draco whirled around and went into the kitchen anyway. He was hungry. As Michel the chef prepared a sandwich called a cheeseburger, Draco asked if Pansy had been sent a tray of food.

Michel nodded. "Oui, Monsieur Malfoy. Mademoiselle Pansy 'as been sent a tray."

Draco received his plate and went back into the dining room. Blaise was waiting for him. "So what did Voldemort have to say, huh?"

"He ordered the attack on her." Draco took a bite as Blaise swore. "Voldemort also said Damien tried to switch over to the Light. That was the reason he and his family were killed."

"Except for Pansy." Blaise raked a hand through his black hair. "Shit. So Pansy would've went over, too?"

Draco shrugged, trying not to think about it. "I don't know. Maybe. I'd like to think she would've stayed with us despite her father, but who knows."

"Anything else?"

"He said something about her being important in the final battle and us leading 'the next generation into darkness' or something like that." Draco forced a laugh. "I don't know why he trusts us over the others. They have more experience at the whole Death Eater business."

Blaise looked thoughtful. "Perhaps because unlike them, we use our brains when things go wrong. Sort of like that job over the Christmas holiday. When Lucius and Avery botched that recovery of Potter's wand, they didn't know what to do. It was us who—"

"—had to think up the escape plan," Draco finished.

He remembered that job. It was his and Blaise's very first field mission. Aurors were closing in because that fucker Potter had sounded the alarm. Lucius had Potter's wand. Draco had said to leave it. There was no way they could escape with it then. Lucius refused. They were pinned down behind some crates in a hall, but there was a window opposite them. Blaise proposed they escape through there, but Avery wanted to stay and fight. Draco and Blaise argued against it. Draco asked Lucius what to do.

It was the only time in his life that he had actually seen Lucius at a complete loss of what to do. It wasn't a pretty sight. Draco had shouted, "Fuck!" and aimed a hex at the Aurors. Then he grabbed Potter's wand from his father's hand and tossed it away. Lucius had said no, but Draco blasted the window out and shoved Lucius through it. Blaise went next to make sure Lucius didn't do anything stupid. He ordered Avery to go and covered the Death Eater's exit. One last round of spells and Draco was out as well.

Voldemort was not pleased. That night was the last time Draco saw his father alive or Avery for that matter. The Dark Lord had commended Blaise and him for thinking on their feet.

"_Make me proud, Draco."_ That was the very last thing Lucius said to Draco before dying before his eyes.

Draco shook his head clearing away the memories of the past. What's done is done as Voldemort said. He couldn't do anything about it now.

"How far we have come in the past seven months," Blaise suddenly said. "Feels damned strange knowing we still have one more year."

He didn't bother responding to Blaise's comments. Pansy was crowding his thoughts again. He shot a glance upward to the second floor in the direction of her room. Draco wondered how she was doing.

That brought up Voldemort's question. _Would_ he have volunteered for the assignment if he had known what was to happen to Pansy? Just to keep her safe? Would Blaise have done it if asked?

"Do you know how she is doing?" asked Blaise.

Draco shook his head. "No. She won't even open her door to me. Narcissa is the only one to see her."

"What a fucking mess," said Blaise disgustedly. "How does he expect us to go about our _normal_ lives at school when he so fittingly screwed everything up for us?"

"You said yourself, mate, we use our brains when things go wrong." He got up from the high-backed chair. "Your parents expecting you anytime soon?"

Blaise shook his head. "No. They're at the Goyle party tonight."

Oh yes, the Goyle party. The Malfoys had been sent an invitation, but Draco graciously declined giving an excuse he couldn't remember now.

Draco tipped his head towards the door. "Come on. Let's go into the library. I've got a bottle of firewhiskey with our names on it."

Together, they went to the library. A fire was going and Blaise claimed one of the comfy armchairs in front of the fireplace. Draco was strongly reminded of his earlier visit with Voldemort. The room was basically the same set up.

He shook himself and went over to the liquor cabinet. With two glasses and the bottle, he took his place by the fire. Draco filled the glasses and handed one to Blaise. He raised his. "To Voldemort. May he...do what he does best. Screw everything up."

"Here, here." Blaise clinked his glass against his and they drank to the toast. Then after Draco refilled their glasses, he said, "Here's to...Pansy. May she get better and kick some ass!"

They knocked the firewhiskey back faster than the first time. Draco twirled the empty glass in his hand. "She'll get better." He nodded to himself. "Yeah, she will."

* * *

**Whaddya think? Too soft, too out of character or just right in his own right? You know what to do. Review it.**

**- TG**


	8. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike?**

**Lilybee2003:**** Thank you so much! I feel all warm and fuzzy knowing you love this story. I was actually worried that I revealed more about Draco and Blaise than I originally intended, but it worked out, made you curious. So I did good. Yea!**

**Select Another:**** Thanks! Yes, it is sad she's in shock, but no one gets over something that traumatic quickly. I thought Draco should be a total guy over the whole recovery. After all, **_**he's**_** never been raped. Calendar date will be explained in this chapter. Good luck! It's okay. I'll live and find someone who will be my beta for LotR fic.**

**A/N:**** I'm so, so sorry! I haven't updated and I'm sorry, but here it is. Have fun reading this chapter. I hope I did a good job with Pansy and Blaise.**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_Draco filled the glasses and handed one to Blaise. He raised his. "To Voldemort. May he…do what he does best. Screw everything up."_

"_Here, here." Blaise clinked his glass against his and they drank to the toast. Then after Draco refilled their glasses, he said, "Here's to…Pansy. May she get better and kick some ass!"_

_They knocked the firewhiskey back faster than the first time. Draco twirled the empty glass in his hand. "She'll get better." He nodded to himself. "Yeah, she will."_

**Chapter Seven**

With a start, Pansy woke up. She sat up and glanced about her room. What had woken her?

It took a few seconds before she knew the answer.

Silence.

The total absence of noise was what woke her up. She glanced at the clock. Its face read 3:27. It was still dark at her window so she guessed it was early in the morning.

She felt cold and snuggled under the covers even more, but she knew blankets couldn't warm the cold. She didn't know what could.

Pansy closed her eyes.

"Got ya!"

Her eyes snapped open in panic and her heart began pounding. She nearly screamed at the voice, but logic forced its way through the fog. He couldn't be here. Draco would know.

Draco.

His hands were on her. His lips—no.

Pansy focused on the voice. It was just a phantom of her mind. She knew this. That voice had haunted her dreams since—since that night. He couldn't hurt her anymore. Draco made sure of that.

Dra—NO!

"Stop it, Parkinson," she said harshly to herself. Her voice sounded explosive to her ears after so much silence. But she couldn't deny the confusion that crowded her thoughts when she thought of her benefactor.

Why had he—NO! There was no use in wondering such things. He had a motive. That was all there was to it. That's all Pansy needed to know.

But still…she knew now why he was nicknamed The Sex God. He kissed like an angel.

Pansy shook her head. _Stop it, Parkinson. He's out of your reach just because. He never looked twice at you and you know it._

Tears sprang into her eyes. Why was this happening to her? What had she done to deserve all this?

Pansy cried until she fell asleep from exhaustion.

When she next woke up, she smelled food. Groggily, she sat up brushing her hair out of her face. The tray was on the desk by the window seat. Sunlight filtered in through the lace curtains.

She looked blearily at the clock. It was just after ten.

Carefully, she moved to get off the bed. Pansy set her feet on the carpet and felt around for her slippers. Slowly she raised herself to her full height and took a step, wincing as she did so. Her lower half was still bruised and battered, but she would not admit it.

Shuffling to the desk, she happened to glance out the window. Her heart pounded at the sight of the dark-haired boy in the garden.

It was him! He was coming back to finish her off. Oh Merlin, save her!

She could feel his hard hands grabbing her, pulling her down.

It was dark! It was so dark. Why is it dark in the daytime?

"NO! Get off me!"

His laughter filled the room. Pansy fell to her knees, hugging her sides. She couldn't go through this again. She knew it wasn't real. Cissa had given her pamphlets on coping. Pansy had only read one. She knew flashbacks were common reactions to what happened to her. But it was real enough.

Hands gripped her shoulders. Screaming, she twisted around and began to strike at her assailant. "LET GO OF ME!"

There was a grunt of pain as her fist connected. Pansy kicked out.

"OW! Pansy, stop! It's just us!"

"No! You're trying to trick me!" she yelled. It was so dark. Why was it dark?

"_Sedatus!_" someone yelled in the dark.

Pansy saw a flash of yellow and then nothing.

* * *

"What was she thinking?" someone whispered.

Pansy laid very still and kept her breathing normal as if she were actually still asleep.

"I don't know. Mother says she must have been having a nightmare or flashback or something," someone else replied. There was a pause. "I didn't know it was this bad."

"What do we do, man? I mean, this isn't exactly covered in The Talk that my parents gave me."

She listened closely. They boys sounded familiar, like she knew them very well.

"I don't know. Look, here's some pamphlet stuff Mother gave her. Perhaps there's something useful in them."

Pansy noted the boy's voice held a thin cord of desperation. She didn't know this boy or the other one, but maybe she did. Her head was fuzzy for some reason. Her thoughts weren't very connected. They seemed scattered.

She concentrated very hard on remembering who she was and who the boys were. Slowly, like a beam of sunlight penetrating through the clouds, it came to her. Her name was Pansy Parkinson, and one of the boys was someone named Draco Malfoy.

Draco.

His very name evoked a memory of kisses. She was naked and in his arms. He was kissing her on a bed. He—

"Draco, this isn't very helpful. All it says is she'll have flashbacks and fear and anxiety. She could be angry or depressed. Hell, Pans might develop a drinking problem," said the other boy.

Draco sighed heavily. "Mine says each individual reacts to something this traumatic in different ways. I have not the slightest inclination as to what she is going through or how she is dealing with this."

What are they talking about? As far as she knew, she wasn't traumatized in any way other than being pushed to have sex with a boy at school, but she had taken care of that.

The other boy asked, "What do we do? How can we help her to overcome this?"

"We'll just have to give her time, Blaise."

Blaise. Blaise Zabini. Yes, that was his name.

A mental picture came to mind of a tall, black-haired boy with piercing blue eyes and a devilish grin.

"We don't have much time left. There's only a month before school begins. There's no way she can recover." Blaise sounded upset, but that wasn't right. Blaise Zabini was never upset over any thing.

She decided to 'wake up' then. Pansy moved her hand under the sheets to let them know she was aware.

"Hey, she's awake!" Blaise cried.

"Not so loud, Blaise," she said. Pansy moved into a sitting position, squinting at the light in the room. "What's going on?" she asked.

"You must have been having a flashback, Pans," said Draco. He was sitting in a chair beside the bed. Blaise stood behind the chair. Both had concerned expressions on their faces although Draco only showed it in his eyes.

Confused, Pansy asked, "What?"

Blaise leaned forward, his hands on the backrest of the chair. "You were on the floor yelling and Draco grabbed you by the shoulders. You turned on him and got a hit in."

Pansy glanced at Draco and saw his jaw was slightly purple. She felt instantly contrite. She grasped his hand and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Draco drew his hand back with a frown. His gray eyes flickered. The glowing concern left and a puzzled look took its place. "Pansy, are you okay? You seem...changed somehow."

"What do you mean, Draco? Of course I am okay. Why wouldn't I be?" Pansy looked from Draco to Blaise and back again.

Blaise considered her, Pansy could tell. Then he asked, "Do...you know why you hit Draco, Pansy?"

"No. I don't remember why I hit him. Is that important?" she asked.

The boys shared a look. Draco stared at her. "What do you remember, Pans?"

"What, now?" They nodded. Pansy shook her hair out of her face and placed her hands in her lap. "I remember waking up and seeing the tray of food on the desk. I looked out the window and..." Pansy stopped. She frowned and concentrated. After a few seconds of trying, she gave up. She couldn't remember what happened next.

"Pans?" Blaise asked.

"I...I don't remember what came next. I just know I looked out the window and nothing else, just a big blank and waking up to you two talking." She saw them exchange looks again. Something wasn't right. "Guys, what's wrong?"

"Uh...do you, by any chance, remember the Zabini party?" asked Draco.

"Yes, of course, I do. I fixed Milli's costume for her. I danced with you both. I even danced with Marcus Flint." Pansy shuddered. She caught a glimpse of murderous rage flash across Draco's face. Then it was gone. Did she really see that? No, she must've imagined it.

"And after?" prompted Draco.

Pansy thought some more, but couldn't bring anything up. "I don't remember anything afterwards. I don't even remember how I got home."

Draco stood up and beckoned to Blaise. Pansy frowned as they both left the room. She thought,_ What is going on?_

"Draco, what the fuck is going on? Why doesn't she remember?" Blaise exploded in the hall, seconds after he closed Pansy's bedroom door. Blaise watched the closest thing he had to a friend pacing, thoughtfully stroking his bottom lip. "Draco?"

Gray eyes flicked towards him lazily. Draco opened his mouth and started to say something, but he stopped and went back to pacing.

Rolling his eyes, Blaise threw his hands up in the air. He turned to walk away, but whirled around. "Draco. What are you thinking?"

"Come on. Let's go to the library." Draco motioned him to follow.

Blaise growled low in his throat. Why was he acting like Pansy's lack of memory wasn't disconcerting? It wasn't right. He knew Draco was just as worried about her as he was only he didn't really show it.

In the library, Draco summoned a house-elf and ordered a tray of food to be sent to Pansy. Blaise prowled up and down the length of the room, waiting for Draco to get directly to the heart of the problem. When the blond settled himself in a chair, Blaise turned towards him expectantly.

"Well?" he asked.

Draco frowned slightly at Blaise's tone, but didn't challenge it. "The Sedation spell you used, Blaise...you and I _both_ know that Pansy's memory should not have been affected. So the question raised is how exactly did she lose her memory?"

Blaise waved his hand, urging him to continue. What was he getting at?

"The pamphlet I read said there could be cases of repressed memories. Do you think it possible that when you hit her with the spell, her mind somehow erased the memory of rape?" Watchful gray eyes seemed to pin Blaise to the spot.

With minimal effort, Blaise focused on the question Draco asked. Was it possible? He wished they could just go to St. Mungo's or something and ask for advice, but that would bring up a lot of questions. There would surely be a scandal involving both the Malfoys and Zabinis. Then someone would remember Pansy and ask if she was the one raped.

He shook his head. No, that was not the way. Fuck, what were they going to do? He glanced at Draco and shrugged. "I don't know. It could be possible if she wanted to forget that hard. The spell could have been the easy way to reset her memory."

"Interesting," Draco muttered to himself.

"What are you thinking?" asked Blaise. He didn't like that cold, calculating look on Draco's face. It reminded him too much of Lucius, which reminded him of how much Lucius would beat Draco for disobeying the smallest order when they were younger. "Draco! What. Are. You. Thinking."

A smirk emerged on his friend's face. "Well, now that Pansy is all better, don't you think we should get her out and about?"

"She just lost her memory, Draco. A very important part of her memory and she needs that to make something of it!" yelled Blaise. "Do you want her reverting back to how she was before her family died?"

"My...parents?" a small voice whispered. "They're...dead?

Horrified, they both whipped around to look at the door. Pansy was standing there in her blue robe. Her hand went up to her trembling lips as tears spilled down over her cheeks. A sob escaped and she ran from the doorway.

"Pansy!" they both shouted. Draco jumped to his feet and made to follow her, but Blaise stopped him. He said, "Let me."

He nodded and Blaise followed her, leaving Draco to his devices in the library. She pattered down the stairs and out the back to the garden. Blaise caught a flash of blond hair disappear out of sight. He ran through the doors and into sunshine.

The sudden brightness made his eyes close reflexively. When at last he opened them, he swept his gaze over the garden. Pansy was gone. Where could she be?

Walking over to the side steps, he descended down to ground level. "Pansy?" he called. "Where are you? Pansy!"

He swept passed the potted flowers and hedges. Blaise remembered Draco saying something about a tree she went to. It was a willow he said. Blaise stopped and searched for the tree. He tossed his head to get his hair out of his eyes.

There it was.

Slowly but surely, Blaise walked towards it. The curtain of leaf and vine was very thick. He could hear her shallow breathing. "Pansy? I'm sorry. I thought you knew still. I—we—didn't think you forgot that as well."

She started sobbing. "H-how could I ha-have...for-forgotten?"

"I don't know. I really don't. I just know that we're both worried about you," he said softly. Blaise briefly remembered the night of his family's ball. She was so beautiful and happy. Damn that fucker! Draco should have killed him or at least let _him_ do it.

"Blaise..." she said. He waited. "I remember now. I know how they died and why. I just...just can't believe I could forget, you know?"

He kept silent.

"Why did Draco want to know if I remembered what happened after your party?" she asked. Pansy poked a hand through the curtain and pulled back. He could see her tear-stained face.

"I-I don't know." He looked away from her gaze.

"Blaise. Is it...bad? Did I do something bad?"

The innocence in her voice made him want to walk away, but he couldn't. He didn't want to destroy what illusions she had. Life doesn't work that way. What a damn shame.

He cleared his throat. "No. _You_ didn't do anything bad."

"What then? What happened? What else do I not remember?" she asked, pushing through the whiplike branches and settled on the ground beside him. That startled him. When had he sat down?

"Perhaps it is better that you do not know."

"Blaise? Please? I feel like I'm missing something important and I want to know what it is, no matter how bad it is."

He smiled in admiration at her strong voice. She had a steel spine sometimes. Then he reminded himself of the seriousness of their conversation. Did he dare tell her?

"Pans, it's bad," he said. "It's...really bad."

"I don't care. Tell me."

"You'll freak out and do something desperate. I can't allow you to do that." He looked into her blue eyes. They begged him silently to tell her. Blaise looked away. "I can't, Pansy. I'm sorry."

"Please, I need to know." Desperation stuck out in her voice. The thought that she would do something desperate anyway, knowing or not, sprang to mind.

He looked at her with new eyes. Blaise could clearly see now that she was nearing her rope's end. She wanted to know. No, she _needed_ to know. That was unavoidable, but he didn't want to hurt her anymore than she already was.

Blaise sighed in resignation. "All right. I'll tell you, but you won't like it. I guarantee you won't."

He could feel her watching him avidly. He didn't look at her, didn't want to look at her.

Blaise took a deep breath. "Pansy, after my family's ball..."

"Yes?" she urged.

"Afterwards...you were...attacked."

"What do you mean?" Confusion colored her question.

He stamped his feet in frustration. He really, really did not want to do this.

Draco's going to kill him.

Blaise locked gazes with her. "Pans, you were raped."

* * *

**So...what do you think? Again, I'm sorry for not updating quickly. Was Blaise convincing enough or did I just give him a shitty job to do? You know what to do. Review it. It makes me very happy.**

**TG**


	9. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly slut, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. My laptop is on the blink and my stories are in it, but I can't get them out. Luckily, I had printed out Chpt 8 of this story to continue writing in classes. Reviewers, thank you guys for reviewing. You know who you are. I'm not giving any pairings because things happen in real life to me that influence this story. So here it is—the next chapter.**

**Helpless **

_Last time…_

_He stamped his feet in frustration. He really, really did not want to do this._

_Draco's going to kill him._

_Blaise locked gazes with her. _"_Pans, you were raped."_

**Chapter Eight**

_What?_

That was her first thought.

Her second was: _I was raped?_

Pansy stared into Blaise Zabini's cerulean blue eyes as a phantom feeling of pain ripped through her body. She jumped in surprise and looked at him again.

"No. It's not true!" she replied fervently. Pansy scrambled to her feet. Blaise looked up at her before standing as well.

He reached for her. "Pansy, it's the truth—"

"NO!" She backed away from him. "You're lying. Everyone lies to me!"

"Pansy, I'm not lying. I'm sorry you were raped—"

"Stop saying that, Blaise! Stop saying that word!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "I wasn't. I wasn't!"

"Draco and I tried to stop it, but there were others in our way. We had to go through them to get to you." Blaise grabbed her arm. "Pansy, we're both worried about you."

She jerked out of his grip. "_You_ I might believe, but Draco? The only thing he's worried about is me staining his family's name even further."

"No, he's not like that," said Blaise.

"He is! Even if I was-was-was…you know, he couldn't care less!" Pansy shuddered at her next thought, and then she voiced it. "He'd look the other way."

Blaise flinched and took a step back. He stared at her without saying a word. He shook his dark head and said very carefully, "I don't think I know you. The Pansy I know isn't like this."

"Well, the Pansy you know hasn't been told she's been violated." She stopped. If all this was true, then…who did it? Who raped her? Her hand went to her chin as she thought about the implications of that question. Was it Blaise? Was it Draco? Who was it?

"Pansy?"

She jerked and stared into blue eyes. Pansy took a deep breath. "Who did it?"

His eyes widened. Then he looked away.

"Blaise," she said quietly. He didn't look at her. "Blaise!" He turned on reflex. "Who?"

"Does it matter?" he asked stupidly.

She narrowed her eyes at him angrily. "Of course it matters!" she yelled at him. "I want to know who did this to me so that I can kill him."

"Whoa, Pans. Back up. Do you really want to do that?" Blaise shook his head again as if trying to ease the idea of her killing someone into his mind.

"Yes. Wouldn't you?" she asked.

"You know I would," he said looking offended that she would even question him on that. "And I would have killed that fucking son of a bitch if Draco hadn't—" He slapped a hand over his mouth. Blaise's eyes were wide. "I can't believe I just said that." His words were muffled.

"Draco what, Blaise? Draco killed him himself? Or Draco stopped you?" Pansy asked frustrated, but she was relieved that her rapist was neither him nor Draco. "What did Draco do?"

Blaise turned away. "I won't say anymore, Pans. I can see that your mind won't let you remember anything. You aren't ready."

"But—"

"No, it's for your own good." He looked back just in time to see her reaction.

"I'm fucking seventeen-years-old!" yelled Pansy. "I'm not a little girl anymore, Zabini! I've been raped! That automatically means I'm no longer a child! So don't you fucking try to tell me what's good for me and what isn't because I don't want to hear it!"

Pansy was breathing hard trying to catch her breath. She locked eyes with Blaise, just daring him to say something.

He threw his head back and yelled at the sky. "ARGH!"

Then he glanced at her and snarled, "What do you want me to say? That Draco broke someone's nose and someone else's jaw to reach you? That he nearly killed your rapist and would have if you hadn't stopped him? That _I_ was ordered to leave that bastard alone?" Blaise got in her face and Pansy wanted to back away, but she would not allow herself to be cowed. He searched her face intently. Blaise whispered, "What do you want me to say, Pansy?"

She looked away and nearly kicked herself literally for doing so. It made her angry to see that she could be controlled, even if for just a second. _Besides_, she thought, _what right does he have to keep tat information away from me?_

"I want his name, Zabini." Pansy never thought of herself as a vengeful person before, even though she was a Slytherin. It's amazing how all that can change when you've seen just how dangerous the world can be.

Blaise shook his head. "No. I won't tell you, Pansy. Not when you're like this."

"Fine. I guess I'll just ask Draco." She pushed passed him and hurried toward the house. If she couldn't get any answers from Blaise, Draco had better provide them. It also made her angry because she couldn't remember the attack itself or how it started.

By the time, Pansy reached the library, she felt near to bursting from the rage. She practically kicked the door open. Draco was sitting at the desk, calmly reading the Daily Prophet.

"Who was it?" she snapped.

He slowly looked from his paper to her. She forced herself to withstand his careful scrutiny. "Why," he finally began, "do you wish to know?"

"So I can kill him."

Pansy saw a flash of pride and pleasure shine bright in his gray eyes. He blinked and it was gone. His eyes were watchful and beguiling now. She knew he wasn't exactly honest and open about anything. She would have to watch herself.

His face took on a bored expression. "Pansy, I really do not want a scandal on my hands. As much as I would like to see you kill the wretched defiler, I must put my foot down and say no. I will not tell you who it was."

"Damn you to hell, Draco Malfoy!" she screamed. Pansy stalked up to the desk. Draco put down his paper and folded his hands upon the desk to watch her. She stopped, looked down at him. In one fast move, she drew Draco up out of his chair across the desk with one hand and her other hand snatched her wand form her pocket. She jabbed the tip of her wand just under his jaw. "You tell me, Draco. You tell me or you will suffer."

She pushed her wand a little harder into his skin. He hissed, eyes closed. Pansy stared at him and nearly jumped when tumultuous silver eyes locked onto her face. Draco spoke, nearly growling, "You will stop at nothing, will you?"

"No."

"Even if he is protected by the Dark Lord?"

"I don't care. Tell me."

"Do you even remember the attack?"

"No, and it doesn't matter. I want him dead. By my hand, Draco, or so help me, I will kill you instead." She jabbed her wand a little harder into his skin and he hissed once more. "Tell me."

Draco took a deep breath and seemed to examine her face. It was like he was gauging her determination. Pansy wondered what he saw.

"Adrian Pucey."

A leering face in shadows clawed through the veils in her mind. With a gasp, she let go of Draco so suddenly that he sprawled awkwardly across the desk. Her legs felt weak. Pansy saw in silent fascination that her hands trembled as she reached out to steady herself with one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Pansy?" Draco's voice sounded so far away. She barely registered that he was leaning towards her.

Pucey leaned in close and smelled her hair. She caught firewhiskey on his breath. He laughed low. "You're so beautiful, but you know that, don't you, Pansy? Yeah, you know. That's why you're wearing that costume."

Something touched her cheek. Pansy jerked back out of her mind. Draco was kneeling in front of her. His gray eyes were wary.

"Pans?" Draco raised himself up and sat on the desk behind him. She had to look up to see his face. The wariness was gone. His eyes were guarded once more. "So," he said, folding his hands, "now that you know who attacked you, what exactly are you going to do?"

"I told you. I'm going to kill him." Her voice seemed distant to her, like she was talking through water or over a large distance.

His lips quirked. "Yes, you did tell me, but I meant how are you going to do it?"

Her heart lodged in her throat. He was right. How _was_ she going to do it? Draco did say Pucey was protected by the Dark Lord. She needed a plan. Pansy stared at Draco. He was watching her again. _He_ had a plan. His eyes gave him away. They were even more guarded than usual.

"Well, first I'm going to find him," said Pansy. "Then I'll surprise him somehow and kill him."

Draco laughed. "That is something a child would come up with."

"What did _you_ have in mind then?" she asked.

"If it were me, I would want to get my money's worth. Make him suffer, scare him before you finish it, but that's just me."

Pansy bit her lip thoughtfully. "Yes, that sounds more…satisfying, but how would I draw him out? Pucey was the sly sort back when he was in Hogwarts. My idea of surprising him would never work. He'd be expecting that."

Draco said nothing.

She continued. "A frontal attack. That's the only way, but how do I get him to where I want him?"

A thought occurred to her and it made her tremble with apprehension. She tried to find another way, but no luck. There was only one way to draw him out to the place of her choosing.

Voldemort.

If Pucey was in the Dark Lord's service, then only he could compel Pucey to show up. Nothing else would work.

"Pansy?"

She looked at Draco. "There's only one way to get him to come to me."

He frowned. "What way is that?"

"V-Voldemort." She couldn't believe she just said his name and judging by the look on Draco's face, he couldn't believe it either.

"I'll have to go to Voldemort."

"Pansy, no." His eyes were warming up. Was she onto his plan?

"It's the only way, Draco. It's my only chance of killing him."

"You are not a killer," said Draco. "I'll do it for you. Hell, even Blaise would do it if you asked him."

"No. I have to do it." She looked away. "You can't stop me, Draco. Even if you tie me to a bed and lock the door and windows, I will find a way."

Draco spun away from her and crossed to the window. His shoulders were rigid. Then he said something she never thought she would hear from him.

"Pansy," he whispered. "Don't do it. Please?"

He never said please. Well, he did, but only when he was ordering people around.

Pansy found herself nearly agreeing to not carry out her plans. She shook herself. "No, Draco. I'm going to do it."

"Pansy…" His shoulders slumped down. Defeat was prevalent in his voice. "Fine."

"But will you help me?" She nearly winced at the pleading she heard in her voice. "Will you help me get to Voldemort?"

He never turned around, but he nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you, Pans."

* * *

**Sorry it's so short, but what do you guys think? You know what to do.**

**-TG**


	10. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** Thanks, you guys, for the great reviews and I would like to welcome the new readers as well. I finally updated it. I'm so happy. **

**WARNING!!:**** THERE IS A TORTURE SCENE (ALTHOUGH NOT REALLY GRAPHIC), SO IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT, DON'T COMPLAIN TO ME SAYING I DIDN'T HAVE A WARNING. I DO. YOU'RE READING IT.**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

"_No, Draco. I'm going to do it."_

"_Pansy…" His shoulders slumped down. Defeat was prevalent in his voice. "Fine."_

"_But will you help me?" She nearly winced at the pleading she heard in her voice. "Will you help me get to Voldemort?"_

_He never turned around, but he nodded. "Yeah, I'll help you, Pans."_

**Chapter Nine**

"This is insane! You've both lost it!" Blaise glared at Pansy and Draco.

The three were seated in the dining room. Pansy had just told him her plans for Pucey with Draco elaborating a few fine points. It was about five in the afternoon.

"Blaise, this is what she wants. Is it right for us to deny Pans her justice?" asked Draco.

"But you're talking about killing a human being!" he exploded.

Pansy thought he would have understood. She thought he did after what he said to her back in the garden, that he would kill Pucey and would have too if Draco hadn't ordered him away.

She said as much. "I thought you understood, Blaise."

"I do, Pans, but this is crazy. You, a killer? This is wrong and Draco shouldn't be encouraging this." Blaise took her hand in his. "Please, Pansy. Think about what you're about to do."

"Obviously you have given this thought." Pansy drew her hand back. "Blaise…I'll admit, I don't remember the attack itself, but if I see him, my memory will come back. Then I'll fully be justified in ridding the earth of a miscreant like him."

Blaise considered her. "What if you can't go through with it?"

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"What if," he started, "everything goes according to plan—Voldemort agrees to summon Pucey for you and you remember everything he did to you—but at the last minute, you can't torture him or kill him? What then? Voldemort will surely want a show guaranteed. What do you think will happen to you, to all of us, if you don't deliver?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes. All of them? Why Blaise as well? It was just her and Draco who—wait, of course. If Draco was in with Voldemort, then it was reasonable to assume Blaise was connected also. She looked over at Draco. His face was thoughtful and his gray eyes troubled.

"Good point, Blaise. I hadn't considered that angle," murmured Draco.

Blaise softly snorted. "Hard to believe _you_ hadn't seen that hole."

Pansy caught the quick glance Draco tossed at Blaise and the tiny shake of his blond head. Blaise raised his dark brows a fraction in response.

"Yes," said Draco acidly, "even a Malfoy can make a mistake now and then, although it is a rare occurrence."

Blaise smirked. "Is it?"

She cleared her throat decisively. This conversation was going nowhere. Both young men turned her way in annoyance. Their expressions shared an irritated _What?_

"The Dark Lord clearly expects blood to be shed. If I should fail to do what is clearly due to Pucey, I will give myself up to Voldemort in his stead."

Denials erupted heatedly on either side of her. She couldn't…There was no way…Her mind was going…A stupid idea…The epitome of idiocy…What the fuck was she thinking…

"It's only fair," she pointed out. "His life or mine. That's the way I see it." Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes for a moment. Lifting her eyelids just a little bit, she could see Blaise worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and Draco watching her.

Pansy slumped in her chair. "What am I anyway? A broken toy? I'm fucking ruined, that's what I am. And I'm supposed to get through one more year of school? Fuck that!"

"Pansy, don't give up," said Blaise. "We'll help you." He turned to Draco and nudged him. "Say something."

Draco flicked his gray eyes towards Blaise, then at her. "Pansy, you're right. It seems no matter what you do, you're fucked. So why not give up? If it'll make you…better, then by all means, do it."

Her mouth dropped open. He was going to let her just…let go? Did he even care? What the fuck is his problem?

"Damn it, Malfoy!" Blaise snapped. He shoved his chair away from the table and lunged to his feet. Pansy cringed instinctively away from his simmering fury.

Blaise glared at Draco. He pointed at him. "What the fuck, man? What the hell are you trying to pull here? Telling her to give up? Agreeing to take her to Voldemort? Letting her plan a murder? Draco, you are seriously becoming unhinged!"

_He's just trying to help, that's all. Blaise doesn't know this is the only way for me to have peace of mind,_ she thought quickly. Pansy watched frustration creep into Blaise's face when Draco said nothing and did nothing but smirk.

"Draco, if you do not say something in the next five seconds, I will beat the shit out of you," threatened Blaise softly.

"Zabini, I want this over and done with as much as Pansy. If we do nothing and let Pucey go unpunished, what will that say about you and I?" he asked. Then almost as an afterthought, he added, "Or Pansy?"

She frowned. What was he trying to say to Blaise without her knowing? It was as if he was talking in code. Draco didn't look at her, so she couldn't see his eyes.

"Something must be done. Pansy has to show that she isn't weak. If she doesn't, then the wolves will eat her alive and I will not let that happen, Blaise. And neither should you."

Blaise swallowed visibly. He looked conflicted. "But not this way, Draco. There has to be another way to show strength."

Pansy spoke before Draco could. "No, Blaise," she said quietly. "There isn't."

They quit the house after ten minutes of listening to Blaise trying to dissuade them. It didn't work. They apparated to a house in the middle of nowhere. Draco got them in after he warned her to keep her face hidden. Then he led her down somewhere in the basement to a room.

He took her hand and drew her in. He motioned her to kneel and he did the same. A figure stirred in the shadows. It came forward.

"And why have you come to me, my children?" asked Lord Voldemort in his high, cold voice. Pansy and Draco were kneeling before him.

Pansy forced down the shudder that wanted to go through her body. She mustn't show weakness. Draco had said that. She held her head up high and met Voldemort's gaze without flinching. "You know what has befallen me two weeks ago. You also know who committed this act against me."

"Do I?" Voldemort's blood-red eyes narrowed.

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "I want to kill him myself."

_And you, too._

"Really?" The Dark Lord laughed coldly. Pansy clenched her jaw to keep from wincing. She looked over at Draco to see how he was doing. He was looking up at the ceiling, the floor, and the walls in a restless manner. She knew that behavior. He was bored!

"May I ask why you've come to me with that revelation?"

"He is in your service."

"Many people are in my service."

"Only you can command him to come at once without delay. He will not expect an attack in your presence," she predicted. "Once he appears, I will confront him—"

Voldemort interrupted her. "What will I get out of this charade?"

Pansy glanced down and back up at Voldemort. "You will see my first kill." A murderous gleam in Voldemort's eye shined bright at this. She went on. "But should I fail in my mission to kill Adrian Pucey, I offer my life in his place."

Voldemort stroked his chin thoughtfully and Pansy struggled to keep the glare off her face. The man who had ordered her family killed was sitting a few paces in front of her. She so desperately wanted to end his life, but it wasn't the right time. Pucey first, then Voldemort. That was the plan.

"How much time will you need to prepare yourself, Parkinson?" asked the Dark Lord.

She took a long look within herself and made her decision. "I can do it right now."

"Wonderful!" Voldemort clasped his hands together. "He is here right now, but knowing young Lord Malfoy here, you two were never noticed coming in. Your element of surprise is intact."

"What of the others?" Draco asked. "Should they be made to watch?"

Pansy looked at Draco. "Others? What others?"

"When Pucey had you alone, there were others coming. They said Pucey was breaking you in." He looked away, but not before she saw the fury swirling his eyes. "They were going to pass you around like a common whore."

Pansy didn't know what to think or feel. She suddenly felt numb, detached from her body even. She didn't recognize this feeling, but she felt as though she could kill someone with her bare hands.

"Yes," she said calmly. "They should watch."

Voldemort smiled widely. "Excellent." He stood up and looked down at them. "Please, stand. Parkinson, do you wish to do this here or is there some other locale you have in mind?"

"Here is just fine." She felt Draco's gaze on her face. She turned to him. "Is that all right with you, Draco?"

He cocked his head to the side. "This is your game, Pansy. Not mine."

She saw his eyes were bright with excitement. Others would not have discerned that. They would have seen his eyes hard as stone, but not her. Pansy smiled. He approved.

"Everything is in order," she said to Voldemort. She added, "You may watch if you wish."

Voldemort smiled a cold smile. "I very much would like to see this."

In a few short minutes, Pansy and Draco drifted away to the shadowed fringes of the room. The chairs before the fireplace were moved aside to make space for her retribution. Voldemort called in a young Death Eater to summon Pucey and the others.

"How are you holding up?" Draco asked in a low voice.

Pansy breathed in deeply. "I'm okay. I want this whole thing over and done with, so I can forget it and move on. I want it very much."

The door then swung open. She watched Adrian Pucey walk in. Terence Higgs, Theodore Nott, and Marcus Flint followed. They kneeled automatically.

"You wished to see us, my lord?" Pucey asked in subdued voice.

Pansy felt her knees buckle and Draco's arms come about her as she fell. She didn't hear his hurried whisper. All she could see was his face and his sneer. All she could feel was his hands on her body, his mouth, his breath on her ear. A jolt went through her as the bolted gate in her memory crashed open. Everything came rushing back and she could barely keep her head up. A dull ache at the base of her skull bloomed. Tears formed as she remembered. Anger choked the shame from her consciousness. The anger turned to rage. The rage clawed at her insides, begging to be let out.

"It is not I, but someone else who wished to see you." Voldemort's voice reached her ears. She looked up just as he glanced in her direction. "Miss Parkinson?"

Her gaze went to Pucey as he stiffened. She rose to her feet, leaving Draco to do his part in this script: guard the door. She sauntered into the light, watched Nott's face pale, and then drain completely of color when he spotted Draco. She let a cold smile spread upon her face. His fear was…intoxicating. Pansy wasn't going to do anything to Nott, of course, but still it was heady feeling to see his emotions.

She glared at the others. Pucey did not look at her. He kept his eyes to the floor. She walked between him and Marcus Flint, cutting him off from the others. They rose warily from their positions and started for the door, only to see it blocked by Draco.

Draco shook his head in warning when Flint got too close.

"My lord," said Terence Higgs. "What is all this? What is going on?"

Voldemort did not give a response to that.

As she circled the thing that had caused her so much pain, Pansy felt oddly powerful. She put a hand in the folds of her robes and fingered her wand. Then she drew her wand out, holding it loosely in her hand.

"We meet again, Adrian Pucey," she said. He still knelt before the fire. He seemed frozen, like he couldn't believe what was happening. As she went behind him, she reached out and touched his back. He stiffened even more.

"What you did to me was wrong, Pucey. And you're going to pay for it."

His head came up. Pucey sneered, "I only gave you what you were asking for."

SMACK!

He fell to the side. Pansy shook out her hand. "I'm doing the talking this time, Pucey."

His dark eyes were wide in shock. "You _hit_ me."

She threw his words back at him. "I only gave you what you were asking for."

Pucey got up as he went for his wand.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she yelled. Pucey's wand went flying. "_Crucio!_"

Pucey's screams filled her ears as she watched him writhe on the floor in pain. She lowered her wand and he lay there gasping for air.

"Idiot," she hissed. "Did you think I would not be prepared?"

"Wh-what…are you going…to do?" he panted.

Pansy only smiled. She raised her wand. "_Crucio!_"

The screaming went on and on. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the other three were huddled, wearing masks of fear. It made her smile even more. They obviously didn't think she was strong enough to do an Unforgivable. Well, she proved them wrong.

She lowered her wand. Pucey curled up on his side immediately. Pansy didn't want him to die of pain. At least, not yet anyway.

An idea came to her and she walked over to him. Pucey was twitching as he tried to catch his breath. She kicked over onto his back and sat down on his stomach, straddling his body.

"Poor Pucey," she crooned. Glee filled her when she laid a hand upon his forehead and he flinched. "How far we have fallen…" she smoothed her fingers over his closed eyelids and down to his cheek. She felt the stray hairs he missed when he had shaved. "You shouldn't have raped me, Pucey. Did you actually think you would get away with it?"

"No…more. Please."

"You must pay," she sighed. Pansy leaned forward and touched her mouth to his. He flinched again. A quick kiss to show she wasn't afraid any more. Then she stood up and went a few feet away.

"Please," Pucey moaned. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Pansy glanced at his friends. Flint was watching, his face blank. Higgs and Nott, on the other hand, were very much afraid. A strange urge made her wink at them as she said, "_Crucio!_"

Pucey thrashed on the floor, screaming. No, not screaming—shrieking. Pansy knew the difference. A scream is just one's voice raised up loud. A shriek is actually high-pitched screaming.

Finally, she stopped. Pucey was sweating and breathing raggedly. Moans escaped his throat between breaths. Tears wet his face.

Pitiful, but fully deserved.

At the back of her mind, a faint voice was yelling to stop. Since she could barely hear the voice, Pansy ignored it and watched Pucey arch his body in pain. Yes, she knew the Cruciatus Curse was extremely painful. Professor Moody had demonstrated it when he was teaching at Hogwarts back in fourth year. She remembered feeling vaguely sick watching that disgusting spider twitch and shudder on top of his desk.

She lowered her eyes to the floor. There was no feeling of sickness now, only rightness. Pansy did not feel shame for what she was doing.

It was justice.

_No, no! Stop. This is all wrong…_

A flick of irritation flashed through her. The voice was back, slightly louder this time.

Go away, she commanded silently. This is none of your affair.

_Please stop it! Before it's too late…_

It's already too late, she replied. Please understand that I'm doing this for the both of us.

Pansy lowered her wand once more. The shrieking stopped. He started to sob. Whether from the pain or perhaps shame, she didn't know.

Or care.

She nudged him with her boot. "Get up."

The sobbing intensified. Pansy felt an unexpected surge of sadness. She was actually going to go through with it. She was going to kill him. He knew. She knew it. The others in the room knew it. Her heart was right there at the edge, balanced…waiting.

Pansy could feel this was near the end of the line. The end was just there. She knew the solution and how to do it, but would she? Did she dare?

The sense of completion was hovering beyond the edge.

She kicked him again. "Get. Up. Now."

Pucey grabbed at her ankle. "Please," he cried. "Have mercy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She leaned down. "Get up, Pucey."

His dark eyes clenched shut and he drew in a sharp breath as he got to his knees slowly. "Please, I…am begging you. Don't kill me."

Pansy didn't say anything to him. She only stared at him.

He began to moan in despair. She heard it in her heart. The voice screamed at her not to go through with it.

Pucey stood up weakly. His head hung down. His entire body shook with his silent sobs.

Pansy pointed her wand at him.

Her heart lodged in her throat and its beat resonated in her ears. Everything faded away until she could only see Adrian Pucey.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A jet of green light shot out and hit Pucey in the chest. The heavy thud following the light struck her straight to her soul. It was the mourning bell as the last of her innocence died. She didn't think she had anymore, but she did.

The voice wailed.

Her wand hand fell to her side. The monster was dead. She should feel triumphant, but she didn't. She should feel elated, but she didn't.

She just felt…empty. A void where there should be something.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. The shuffling of feet drew her attention to the door. Three terrified stares were fixed on her.

Flint, Higgs, and Nott.

They were alive when their friend wasn't. They were just as guilty.

Anger simmered in her. They were alive. Pucey wasn't. It wasn't fair, but life wasn't fair.

"If you ever come near me again, I will kill you," Pansy said in a low voice, looking especially at Nott. "Should I ever hear even a whisper of a rumor that any of you have committed the crime that has been done to me, I vow to hunt you down and shame you before considering the thought of killing you."

Draco nodded in approval behind them.

Then Voldemort spoke up behind her. "On this ending note, I want to add that this situation will NOT be discussed again. Ever. Should I learn otherwise, you will answer to me. Do you understand me, Nott? Flint? Higgs?"

"Yes, my lord," said all three in hushed tones. Nott refused to meet her eyes.

"Parkinson." She looked back. "Malfoy here will escort you back to his home now." He drew near and he said something only she would hear as he passed. "I very much enjoyed the show." Pansy didn't know what to say, but no matter. Voldemort commanded Flint, Nott, and Higgs to dispose of the body.

Draco took her by the arm and guided her back through the house. Once outside, they apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

They met Blaise entertaining Narcissa in the main parlor room. The laughter ceased instantly upon their entrance.

"So?" prompted Blaise.

Pansy fixed her eyes on the window. She could see a clear blue sky and dark storm clouds in the far distance. "It's done, Blaise."

"Pansy." His voice practically oozed disappointment.

She turned to him. "I thought I could kill him for myself, to make him pay, but I couldn't."

"Wait. Are you saying he's alive?" asked Narcissa.

Pansy shook her head. "He's…dead.

"Then…"

"It was a mercy killing. If I had left him alive, I would have died. He would have lived in shame for breaking down completely and begging for his life." She sighed. "After what I put him through, he was better off dead."

"Oh, Pansy." Narcissa rose from her chair and came towards her, arms open as if to give her a hug.

The sudden move and threat of comfort moved her to speak. "I'm really tired, Cissa. I'll be in my room resting."

She turned away before she could see Narcissa's face fall, before Draco or Blaise could say anything. Pansy ran upstairs, her robes flapping in the slipstream behind her. She closed the door and locked it.

_Murderer…_

"Oh shut up," she growled.

Pansy walked to her bed and sat down. She bent her head.

She cried.

She cried for herself and for Pucey. He would not have a proper burial. He would just disappear. Nothing would change that.

_Murderer_, the voice whispered. The word slithered into her heart before she could stop it.

* * *

**So what do you think, guys? You know what to do. Review it.**

— **TG**


	11. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** Oh, thank you guys for the reviews on the updated chapter nine. (That was sarcasm, by the way). But not to worry, I'm not angry, so I'll keep writing. I do, however, appreciate the reviews from the chpt nine peek. Too bad they weren't for the longer version as well. (Sorry, couldn't resist). Oh yeah, Lady-Of-The-Moon, the song was very reminiscent of my story. I can see why you thought so. **

**Now get to reading and don't forget to review!**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_Pansy walked to her bed and sat down. She bent her head._

_She cried. _

_She cried for herself and for Pucey. He would not have a proper burial. He would just disappear. Nothing would change that._

Murderer_, the voice whispered. The word slithered into her heart before she could stop it._

**Chapter Ten**

The door of her bedroom opened.

"Pansy, are you ready?

She looked away from her reflection to Draco. She smiled. "Almost. I'll be down in two minutes, okay?"

He nodded. His gray eyes stole a quick glance down her figure. "Very nice. Mother will be proud."

She snorted lightly and rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, very proud."

"Now, now." Draco shook his finger at her. "No sarcasm. I have to be by your side all night and I don't want any of your sass."

Pansy stuck her tongue out at him. "How's that for sass?"

He chuckled. "I'll be waiting downstairs."

She turned back to the mirror as he closed the door. Pansy sighed and put the finishing touches on her make-up.

"Thank Merlin, this isn't another damn masquerade," she said softly. Pansy brushed back a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She adjusted the top of her dress and shook out the skirts. She was wearing a dress made of light blue material. It was a regular evening dress. It was simple and she liked it. Normally, her dresses were more revealing, but now she was used to styles that are more conservative. Cissa said it was prudent to not reveal too much. It left more to the imagination or something like that.

Pansy steeled her spine and inner core. The party they were going to tonight was that of the Nott family. No doubt Theo was going to be there. No doubt he knew she was going to be there. A grim smile tugged at her lips. He would avoid her at all costs.

She had said she would kill him if he came too near. She meant it.

Her two minutes were up. She headed for the stairs. She made sure to grab her wand.

"Beautiful, darling," Cissa exclaimed when she descended to the front hall. She turned to Draco waiting beside her. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"

He nodded his head dutifully. "Yes, Mother. I already told her upstairs."

Cissa slapped at his arm. "Oh, you. Couldn't help yourself, son?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure she wasn't going to change her mind at the last minute," he replied.

Pansy smirked. "As if I would. I promised Milli I would meet her there."

"Milli?" Cissa inquired.

"Millicent Bulstrode. You remember her, Mother," Draco explained. He stretched his arms out to the sides as far as they would go. "She's about this wide and about nine feet tall."

Pansy punched his chest. "Shut up. You're exaggerating." She looked at Cissa. "You'll meet her at the party, Cissa. I promise."

Draco shepherded them to the front door, but Pansy spotted envelopes on the side table by the door. "Wait," she said. "What are these?"

"Our Hogwarts letters, Pans," said Draco. "We'll open them tomorrow."

"When did they arrive?"

He frowned as he counted on his fingers. Then he said, "On Monday."

She stared at him. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Well, you were busy," he said as if that was reason enough.

"Honestly, Draco," she muttered as she walked out the front door.

"Pans, I'm sorry!" he called out before she apparated to the Notts.

He appeared a second after her at the bottom of the stairs. Cissa followed another second later. They went up the stairs and at the top, Draco held out his arms. Cissa took his left arm and Pansy sighed when she took his right arm.

"Really, I'm sorry. I should've told you," he whispered.

"Damned straight," she whispered back.

"Come on, don't be angry with me."

Pansy didn't say anything for a few moments, then she asked, "Did you open yours?"

"No. I was waiting for you."

She threw a quick glance at him to make sure he wasn't pulling her leg. He was looking at her solemnly. Pansy said, "Fine. I forgive you."

He smirked.

"Only because I have to be with you all night," she finished.

His smirk fell away.

They were shown into a large dining room with a long table that could seat well over two hundred people. The majority of the seats were taken.

"Right this way, my lord and ladies," a servant said. They were led to their seats. Pansy smiled in delight when she saw Milli right next to her.

"Hi, Pans," Milli said in hushed tones when Pansy sat down, but she could tell Milli was happy she was sitting next to her.

"When did you get here, Milli?"

"A few minutes ago. The dinner's about to start."

"I love your new look," Pansy smirked.

A becoming blush stole upon Milli's face, adding to her femininity. Milli wore a strapless green evening dress. Light danced upon the subtle sheen of fine glitter that was on her shoulders.

"Thanks," said Milli. "My mother didn't like it though."

Pansy shot a look at Milli's mother. Prudence Bulstrode's face was pinched like she had a bad taste in her mouth that she couldn't get rid of. She caught a disgusted glance Prudence tossed at Milli.

"No, she doesn't, but who cares."

"Pans," hissed a male voice.

"Huh?" Pansy looked the other way.

Blaise waved at her a few chairs down and across the table. She waved back. He said, "Pans, who's your friend?"

A wicked grin emerged as she looked at Milli, then back at Blaise. "This is Milli."

He directed a cocky smile at Milli. "Hey, how's it going?"

Milli turned red. "Um, fine, Zabini. And you?"

"How did you know my name?" He tipped his head to the side and frowned.

"I've gone to school with you since first year, idiot."

Blaise still had a puzzled expression on his face. "I've never noticed you before."

Okay, this wasn't going good.

Pansy cleared her throat. "Blaise, this is Millicent."

"Bulstrode?" he asked in a strangled voice. "Wow! You look great, Millicent."

"Thanks, Zabini," said Milli, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

The Maître d' of the Nott household came forth from the kitchens. He clapped his hands to gain the attention of all. When everyone quieted down, he said in a loud, clear voice, "Dinner is served."

All across the table, the laid out dishes were filled with food.

Pansy smiled. It was just like Hogwarts. Knives and forks clinked gently on the porcelain plates and the low buzz of conversation filled the large dining room.

"So, why weren't you at the Goyles last week, Pans?" whispered Milli.

Memories flitted before her mind's eye and she simply said, "I wasn't feeling very well."

"I looked for you after the Zabinis' party, but I couldn't find you."

"That's when I started to feel unwell. Draco escorted me home early." Pansy changed the subject. "How did your mother react to your costume?"

Milli smiled playfully. "She fainted."

Pansy clapped her hand over her mouth before her laughter could escape.

"I really am grateful, you know," continued Milli. "If you hadn't taken pity on me and helped me…change the way I looked at myself, I would still be dumpy Bulstrode."

"You don't have to thank me, Milli. I'm just happy you're happy. You deserve to finish Hogwarts with a new look."

Milli took in her dress. "Like you?"

Pansy shifted. A ghostly voice whispered faintly, _"You're so beautiful, but you know that, don't you, Pansy? That's why you're wearing that costume."_

She forced the voice away, far away where she couldn't hear it in her heart anymore. Pansy looked into Milli's brown eyes. "I got sick of the way I was dressing."

"Did you get your letter from Hogwarts yet?" asked Milli.

"Yes, but I haven't opened it."

"Do you think you made Head Girl?"

Pansy scoffed as she shook her head. "No. That title probably went to Granger."

Granger, she had said. Not Mudblood Granger or plain Mudblood. What was wrong with her?

"Granger?"

"Yes, Granger. She has the highest grades possible in our year. Of course she would get it," snapped Pansy. She sighed, "Why shouldn't she?"

"Pansy, come on. Usually, you're cursing her right about now. What's up?" Milli touched her shoulder gently. "If I'm really your friend, then tell me."

"It's just—You see—Look, I've spent countless hours coming up with insults tailor made for Gryffindors. I don't want to waste anymore time doing pointless things." Pansy turned to Milli fully in her chair. "There's more to life than…hating everything and everyone. I just want to live, Milli. For myself, for my family and for others who will never get the chance to."

"Wow. I've never heard you sound so passionate, Pans," remarked Milli seriously. She smiled. "It's about time."

Pansy sighed in relief. Milli accepted it and she didn't make any disparaging comments about her sudden change of views. That was all that mattered.

* * *

She opened the door to her bedroom tiredly and staggered in.

"Good night, Pans. See you in the morning," said Draco.

"Uh-huh," she yawned. He closed the door for her.

It was two in the morning. They just came back from the Notts. Pansy shrugged out of her dress and kicked off her heels. She pulled the panty hose off and threw it across the room. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Then she took down her hair and walked back into the bedroom to the bed.

She pulled the covers back and turned off the lights. After peeling off her bra and underwear, Pansy grabbed for her nightgown, but couldn't find it. She didn't feel like going all the way to the closet, getting another, and then coming all the way back to the bed, so she just slid between the sheets naked and promptly fell asleep.

Pansy dreamed of Adrian Pucey. She dreamed of the night she was raped. She dreamed of the day when she killed him. The last thing he said to her before fading away was, "Don't kill me."

She was in the dark. Alone with no way to see where she went. All the while, a soft, whispery voice mocked her. "Murderer…Pansy Parkinson is a murderer…"

She wanted it to stop, but she couldn't yell. The voice kept taunting and all she could do was scream inside her head.

"Pansy," it sing-songed. "Pa-a-ansy…"

Someone shook her shoulder in the darkness.

"Pansy," said someone. The voice was different. It sounded male. "Pansy, wake up."

"Go away," she mumbled.

He shook her shoulder again. "Pa-a-ansy…wakey, wakey."

"Leave me alone." Pansy turned away. She wondered why she could speak now when she couldn't before.

"Pans, get up," he commanded.

This wasn't a dream. She knew that now. She could hear birds in the background and someone moving slightly. Just as she opened her eyes, the covers were ripped away.

"Holy shit!" he exploded.

Pansy turned around to face him.

Draco was wide-eyed and staring at her. His mouth was hanging open. Even his hand still clutched the sheets.

Glaring at him, Pansy snapped, "What?"

"Y-y-you—you're nuh-na-nuh-na-ked," he stuttered.

She looked down at herself and screamed. Snatching the sheets from his grip, she held them to her body and yelled, "Get out!"

That snapped him out of his trance. Draco did a quick shake of the head and scowled at her. "What are you doing naked? Why don't you have clothes on?"

"I didn't expect a personal wake-up call from you or anyone else for that matter! Now get out of here!" Pansy pointed to the door.

"But—"

Pansy wrenched the sheet from the rest of the covers and got off the bed. "Get out, Draco!"

He looked down at her. "Pans—"

"OUT!" She pushed backwards with one hand. "OUT, OUT, OUT!"

Pansy shoved him out the doorway and into the wall opposite her door.

"JERK!" She slammed the door shut and locked it.

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WERE NAKED?" Draco shouted through the door.

"JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" she yelled back. Pansy went into the bathroom and slammed that door shut, too. "Of all the mornings to wake me up, he chooses this one!"

Angrily, she turned on the shower and dropped the sheet on the floor to step in front of the spray of water. Pansy muttered to herself about the stupidness of boys as she took her shower. Then she dried off.

From her closet, Pansy chose a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She threw on a bra and panties, then her chosen clothes. She put on socks and jammed her feet into sneakers.

She left her bedroom and went to the breakfast parlor. Draco was waiting for her. Cissa wasn't anywhere in sight.

She threw a glare at him and went straight to the food laid out on one of the side tables. After she made her selections, she retired to the main table and sat down.

"Pansy."

She poured herself a glass of juice and began to cut into her eggs.

"Pansy."

She stuffed a forkful of eggs into her mouth and chewed, resolutely ignoring Draco. He was watching her eat and she started to grow conscious about it.

"Pansy."

She took a drink of orange juice and gently put the glass back down.

"Pans."

"What?!" she finally said, looking at him.

"I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," she scoffed.

Draco sat in the chair across from her and leaned forward. "I'm really, _really_ sorry. I didn't know you were…you know. It's just I wanted us to open our Hogwarts letters together."

She stared down at her plate, not at him. She didn't want to look into his eyes and really see what he was about. Did he mean that?

"Look, I have them right here with me. We can open them now." He sounded so sincere. Pansy still didn't look at him. He sighed heavily. "Pansy, believe me. I would never have gone into your room if I had known."

"You were shaking my shoulder. Didn't it seem weird to you that it was naked?" she retorted.

"The blankets were over your shoulder. I was touching you through that! I barely saw the top of your head."

"Oh." Boy, did that make her feel foolish! She sat back against the backrest. It was her turn to sigh. "Fine. Whatever. Give me my letter."

He gave it to her immediately and opened his. She opened hers slowly, dreading whatever it said inside.

"Shit."

The soft curse pricked her interest. Pansy looked up at Draco. He was staring at his letter so hard that she wanted to check the paper for scorch marks.

"Something wrong?" she asked politely.

He dropped his letter to the floor. She frowned. What was going on?

"Draco?" she prompted.

"I made Head Boy."

He looked so…pensive? Disappointed? Angry?

She didn't know.

Pansy forced a slight laugh. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Fuck no!" Draco raked his hands over his face and through his hair. "I thought for sure Pothead or another one of those Gryffindors was going to get it. Fuck! I never thought once that I was in the running." He stood up. "What the hell is that old fuck Dumbledore thinking?"

Pansy wisely decided not to say anything.

He glanced at her and the letter she had taken out of the envelope. She didn't open it yet. "Well?" he asked rudely. "What does yours say? Did you get Head Girl?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "First of all, I've just forgiven you. Don't go spoiling that now. Wait until tomorrow. Second, Granger most likely received Head Girl. Not me."

"Fucking Granger," muttered Draco under his breath.

Taking a deep breath, she unfolded it and smoothed it flat on the table. One more deep breath and she read it. When she finished, she took a calm drink of her orange juice.

"Well, what did it say?" Draco pressed.

"I'm not Head Girl if that's what you are asking."

He groaned. "Oh, for the love of magic, please, PLEASE don't let Mudblood Granger get it!" He faced her again. "What else?"

"I'm the seventh year Slytherin prefect. Since you're Head Boy now, who do you suppose is your replacement?" she asked.

Draco only shrugged. "Who cares as long as it is not that bastard Theo Nott."

Pansy focused on his face rather than the anger roiling inside her. Draco's eyes turned steely and his jaw clenched and unclenched. She wondered what Nott did to make him so furious.

On second thought, no, she didn't.

"Pardon me," a shrill, high voice said. Pansy looked to the door at the house-elf. "There is a young lady here wanting to Miss Parkinson."

She felt Draco's gaze brush over her face before answering, "Send her in."

"Yes, Master." The house-elf scurried off to let the young lady in.

Pansy stood up and speculated on who would dare visit her here. There was no one she could think of at the moment.

Millicent Bulstrode walked into the parlor.

She wanted to smack herself for not thinking of Millicent.

"Good morning, Pansy, Draco," said Milli cheerfully.

"Morning, Milli," replied Pansy.

"Bulstrode?" Draco asked. His eyes bugged out as he took in Milli's curvaceous figure in hip-hugging jeans and low cut top.

Milli put a hand on her hip and said, "Yes! Take a picture why don't you! It'll last longer." She looked at Pansy. "Is he always this slow in the morning?"

Smiling, Pansy shook her head. "No. It just seems that today is the day for being witless."

"Yeah? What else did he do?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Pansy said, sure she was blushing.

"Sure," said Milli in a disbelieving tone.

"Why are you here, Bulstrode?" Draco inquired.

"To catch up with Pansy, of course. Oh, and to talk about the ball my parents are giving this Saturday." Milli held up an envelope. "Here's the invitation."

"Thanks." Draco took it and opened it.

Pansy saw Milli motion at her out the corner of her eye. She looked. Milli wiggled her eyebrows at her and then at Draco. She mouthed, _What's his deal?_

There were so many ways to answer that question, but Pansy only rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Tell your parents we accept," Draco stated firmly. He looked at them both and sighed. "I'll be in the library, so giggle and talk all you want about me. I don't mind."

Pansy snorted. "You wish."

Draco only smirked at her. "If you see Blaise in the house anywhere, tell him I'm in the library."

Then he was gone.

Milli burst into laughter. "Holy fuck, what is his deal? Seriously, Pansy."

"I don't know."

"And that's so creepy. 'If you see Blaise in the house anywhere'…like I would see him," Milli laughed. She stopped suddenly. "Wait, does Zabini actually run loose in the house here?"

Pansy nodded. "Yeah, he practically lives here."

Milli spotted the letters on the table. "What's this?"

"Hogwarts letter."

"Oh yeah? What did it say?"

"I'm seventh year prefect for Slytherin. I wonder who took Draco's position?" Pansy mused.

"What do you mean? I thought Draco was prefect as well."

"He's Head Boy."

Milli's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? A Slytherin's been made Head Boy? Holy fuck!"

"Yeah, so naturally I'm wondering who's in his old position."

"Aw, am I really only second best to ol' Malfoy?" a new voice asked pitifully.

Whirling around, Pansy spotted Blaise lounging in the doorway. His words slowly clicked into place. "Are you saying…"

He clicked his tongue and jumped fully into the room, arms wide open. "I'm your new partner-in-crime!"

She laughed. "Oh, really, Blaise!"

"What?" he asked distrustfully. "I thought you'd be happy for me."

"Shut up and act your age, Zabini," Milli put in.

Blaise looked at Milli. "Who asked you, Bulstrode?"

"Obviously not you."

"That's right! _I_ didn't ask you…" he trailed off. He glowered at her. "Hey!"

Milli merely lifted her shoulder in response. Blaise huffed and distinctly turned to Pansy. "Where's Draco?"

"In the library, Blaise."

"Okay." He shook his shirt out as he looked one last time at Milli's blank face. "I'll leave you with your _rude_ guest, Pans. Hopefully, she won't stay long."

Ten seconds after he left, Pansy glanced at Milli. Milli looked at her.

"HA HA HA HA HA!" Their laughter broke the silent parlor.

"Oh…ha ha ha…damn!" Pansy gasped out between her giggles.

Milli didn't bother to say anything.

Once their fit of giggles faded, Milli turned to her all business like. "Okay, now that that's out of the way, what are you going to wear Saturday?"

* * *

**I think this chapter was maybe a little too light, but perhaps the story needed a break right? So, again let me know what you think.**

**- TG**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** Thanks for the reviews, guys. I'm sorry it took me so long to post. Things got in the way and I wasn't that motivated to write. So it's possible that some of you will be disappointed. Oh yeah, Milli isn't really the standard 'hotness'. Her face, in my mind, is more striking than beautiful. Strong featured, perhaps. The books do describe her as heavy-jawed or something like that.**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_Pansy glanced at Milli. Milli looked at her._

"_HA HA HA HA HA!" Their laughter broke the silent parlor. _

"_Oh…ha ha ha…damn!" Pansy gasped out between her giggles._

_Milli didn't bother to say anything. _

_Once their fit of giggles faded, Milli turned to her all-business like. "Okay, now that that's out of the way, what are you going to wear Saturday?"_

**Chapter Eleven**

Pansy yawned into her hand discreetly as she followed Draco into Flourish & Blotts.

She stopped when he asked where this year's books were. The attendant pointed it out and Draco looked back at her. "Come on, Pans."

She nodded sleepily and followed again.

Why they had to wake up so early to go to Diagon Alley was beyond her. She didn't go to Diagon so early before. She waited until people were actually out to see her go shopping for school. Right now, there was hardly anyone out.

Draco stopped before the display. He patted his pants pocket and his jacket. "Shit! Pansy, do you have your list with you? I forgot mine."

Pansy withdrew the folded booklist from her pocket and handed it to him wordlessly. He cast a suspicious look at her before turning back to the display.

She stood beside him, eyes closed as he gathered two sets of books for them both. Her eyes snapped open when he nudged her. "Get yours."

She took one look at the stack of books and turned back to him. "You have got to be kidding me."

He smirked. "Yeah, I am. You're too sleepy to carry such a heavy load. You'll probably drop it on your foot."

Pansy scoffed in response. "I wouldn't be if we hadn't waken up so early to get our school stuff."

Draco rolled his gray eyes and grabbed her books as well. "Yeah, yeah."

She followed him to the counter where he paid for both their books. Pansy objected. "Draco, you don't have to do that! I have money, too, you know."

"Yeah," he nodded. "But you might mistakenly give the man more money than what these books are worth. By accident, you know."

"Whatever." And she left it at that.

They both went in to Madame Malkin's and were fitted for their robes. Pansy ordered a set of new dress robes for the Yule Ball. They were a simple black with silver stitching at the hems. Draco ordered just plain black.

They also did a final fitting for what they were going to wear Saturday. It was the Malfoys' ball and Draco wanted Pansy to look her best. She had ordered another simple gown made of burgundy silk. Draco went with his customary black attire.

Last week, they attended the MacDougal country dinner and before that was the Bulstrodes'. All in all, Pansy was very thankful that after Saturday there would be no more public events.

Afterwards, he suggested taking a break from their shopping. They took in a couple of butterbeers at Florean Fortescue's. They sat at one of the outdoor tables.

"Why'd we have to come so early?" she asked again.

He smiled evilly. "You'll see." Draco looked at his watch. "Five more seconds."

She looked towards the front doors of Fortescue's. Five seconds later, Blaise came out in a white uniform. He had a patch with his name on it and a wedge hat on his head. He dragged his feet over to their table.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked monotonously. He looked skyward and sighed. "Perhaps Florean Fortescue's famous triple scoop Hippogriff Surprise?"

Pansy couldn't speak. Blaise actually had a job? At the Ice Cream Parlor no less! The disgrace of it all!

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zabini?" she yelled. "Working for minimum wage at an ice cream shop! In public?"

Blaise waved his hands at her. He glanced back at the closed doors of Florean's. "Quiet down, will you? Geez, I'm trying to work here."

"Blaise," she whined. "Why are you doing this?"

He looked away, clearly disgusted. "I went over my limit with the bank again and my dad said enough is enough. He said if I want to spend money like crazy, it'd have to be money that I earned. Fucked up, that's what it is."

"Here, servant," Draco said. "Refill my mug, will you?"

Blaise narrowed his eyes at his friend. Pansy stared at Draco. "Draco! Where are your manners?"

"Manners are for equals, not your inferiors," he said, flicking a contemptuous look at Blaise.

"Draco!"

"No, Pans, it's all right. This is what I have had to put up with for the past week." Blaise slapped his towel over his shoulder and picked up Draco's mug.

"But, Blaise," she said. "You don't have to do that." Pansy looked at Draco. "What the hell is wrong with you? He's your friend."

Draco picked lint off his shirt. "Yeah, well, now he's below me."

"You shallow, inconsiderate asshole!" she shouted. "If I got a job working at one of these shops, will you practically disown me, too?"

"Pansy."

She ignored Blaise. Draco filled her eyes. "It's not fucking fair and you know it, jerk! Who do you think you are?"

"Pansy!"

"Not now, Blaise."

Blaise grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Pansy, it's all a lie. It was just a joke."

She frowned, utterly confused.

"It's just a joke, Pans. I don't really work here," continued Blaise. He withdrew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at himself. He whispered a spell and his white uniform peeled away to regular clothes. "See?"

"It was a joke?" she asked weakly.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah, but if you're going to yell at someone, yell at Draco. It was his idea. Really!"

Draco scoffed. "Was not."

"Was too. Just admit it."

"Was. Not." Draco stood up.

Blaise turned to him and stood toe to toe with Draco. "Was. Too."

"Was not."

"Was too."

Pansy looked from one to the other during this exchange. They could possibly continue this for the rest of the day. She had to do something. She pushed herself between them and shoved them both back.

"Knock it off, you two," she snapped. "I don't care whose idea it was. You were both in on it either way."

A jeering voice called out, "Aw, now why'd you have to go and break it up, Parkinson?"

She turned. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were watching from the front of Flourish & Blotts.

"Yeah, Parkinson," Potter said. "You should have let them both duke it out."

"Mind your own business, Potter," said Draco.

Potter snorted. "Not very likely, asshole."

Draco scowled and reached for his wand. Pansy noticed and put a hand on his. "Don't, Draco. He's not worth it."

"Oh, and we're soooo sorry to hear about your family, Parkinson," taunted Weasley. "What did they do to get killed over? Not shining the Dark Lord's boots right?"

She whirled around and just as she jumped at him, just as Blaise managed to grab her waist in time, a girl snapped, "Ronald Weasley! How dare you say such a thing!"

Pansy watched Hermione Granger march right up to Weasley and smack him across the face. Granger shouted, "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Hermione!" Weasley grabbed his face and shot a quick look at Pansy before moving on to Draco and Blaise. His face turned beet red in humiliation. Weasley rounded on Granger. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

Granger put her hands on her hips. "You know damn well why I did that, Ron."

Pansy didn't want her pity, but she appreciated Granger's intervention all the same. She suspected she would have hexed Weasley if she hadn't shown up.

Then Potter started in on Granger as well. "You didn't have to slap him in front of the world, Hermione!"

"Stay out of it, Harry!" Granger shouted. She went back to Weasley. "You are a superficial, two-faced bastard!"

Pansy was shocked. She thought the Golden Trio was tightly knitted. She heard Blaise whisper, "Wow. Never knew she had it in her."

Weasley lashed out and pushed her hard. Hermione fell back on the ground. Pansy was stunned even further.

Even Potter was at a loss. Weasley stood over her, panting harshly.

"You fucking coward, Weasel!" burst Blaise. "Must take a big man to shove a girl to the ground. What are you going to do next, huh? Hit her? Kick her?"

Pansy rushed forward, forgetting where and who she was. She knelt beside Granger. "Are you okay?"

Granger was shell-shocked. She stared blankly at Pansy. "He…pushed me."

Anger burned, but Pansy held it back. She turned to Weasley and stood. She hit him. He was so surprised that he fell on his ass.

Potter, meanwhile, had helped Granger up. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

Pansy whipped her wand out at Weasley's chest. He gaped incredulously at her. She said, "I should curse you where you lay, Weasley, but I have better things to do with my time." Putting her wand back in her jeans pocket, Pansy leaned down. "If I see you ever push a girl again out of anger, I'll hex you so fast, you won't know what hit you."

With that, she turned away and walked back to Draco and Blaise. Both stared in disbelief. "Come on," she sternly said. "Show's over. Let's get the rest of our shit and blow out of here."

They silently followed her after Draco threw down some money for their drinks. After stopping by the Apothecary to refill their stores of potion ingredients and Eeylops Owl Emporium to get a few bags of high-quality owl treats for Draco's eagle owl, the three went into their favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Draco and Blaise left her in a flash to get new cleaning kits for their brooms. She shook her head at their identical looks of glee.

Pansy went to the broom displays and examined each one. She loved to fly and would have loved to have tried out for the Slytherin House team last year, but her mother had said no. The broom she had was a _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_. It wasn't nearly as fast as the Firebolt series, but it was fast enough.

She spaced out, dreaming of the wind in her hair and the feel of air whipping past her. Nothing to worry about, but the different turns and loops she wanted to do.

"Pansy, you ready?"

Blinking, she focused on Blaise's face. His blue eyes glittered in mischief and she wondered what was going to happen.

"What?" she asked.

She nearly groaned aloud when his devilish grin made its appearance. "Nothing. Don't you trust me, Pans?"

Raising a weary brow, she looked at him.

"That hurts me," said Blaise, putting a hand over his heart. "But seriously, are you ready to go? You've been looking at the display for ten minutes."

"Have I?"

"Are you gonna buy one?" he asked.

"No. The one I have is enough." Pansy glanced at him quickly. "I-I'm thinking of trying out for the House team. What do you think?"

Blaise cracked a wide smile. "Really?" he asked, as if not quite believing what he heard. She nodded. She squeaked when he pulled her into a bear hug. "Oh, that would be brilliant, Pans. What position you gonna try out for?"

"I've don't know really. I've never actually played Quidditch, but I do know the game and such. Draco's Seeker and you're a Chaser."

"Well, you could try out for Chaser. Denton's position is open as is the Keeper." He looked down at her. "I've never seen you on a broom. Are you sure you can fly?"

Pansy punched his chest and stepped out of his embrace. "Of course I can."

"I was just asking."

"And what were you 'just asking'?" Draco put in smoothly. Pansy looked his way. His eyes were hard again and his face set.

Blaise smirked. "I was just asking Pansy to marry me."

"Pardon?" asked Draco mildly, darting a quick glance at her. Why did she get the feeling he wanted to shout?

Waving his hand, Blaise tsked. "Don't worry, Draco. She denied me. I feel like such a loser." Pansy opened her mouth to confirm it, but he clamped his hand over her lips. "Don't say it, Pansy. I know you've always loved me and you must be in such pain right now."

She rolled her eyes at his melodramatic tone.

Then he said, "All I ask is before our friendship is sealed forevermore is," the devilish gleam returned to his cerulean eyes, "a kiss."

He started to lean close. Just as Draco said, "Wait a damn second!" she bit his hand.

"OW!" Blaise jerked back, clutching his hand.

Draco was perplexed. Blaise looked at him and saw his expression. He elaborated with "She bit me!"

Draco blinked. "She did what?"

"Draco, Pansy bit me."

Pansy stifled a sigh when Draco gazed at her and smirked. She knew what was going to happen next.

"She's…a biter," said Draco.

Blaise took a few seconds to get his meaning. Then he started laughing. "A biter! I knew it all along!"

"Shut up!" she nearly yelled. The people around them were looking at her weird. She didn't like it. Blaise leaned on Draco for support. "It's not that funny, Zabini."

"Yeah…it…it is," he gasped.

"I'm leaving," she announced.

"Oh, Pansy, come on. You know we're kidding."

Pansy turned on her heel and strode out of the Quidditch shop to apparate back to the Manor.

Shaking her head as she climbed the front steps to the Manor, Pansy opened and slammed the front door.

"Hello, dear," Cissa called from the second floor. Pansy saw her at the railing and waved. Cissa asked, "Are the boys back as well?"

"No, they're—"

The door opened. "Damn it, Pansy! Learn to take a fucking joke."

Cissa said faintly, "I'll leave you two alone."

She faced Draco. "Where's Blaise?"

"He got distracted by the Patil twins."

Of course.

Draco went on. "Now tell me where do you get off by running away?"

"I wasn't running away." Pansy paused. "I was walking away."

He plowed right over her words. "And what exactly did Blaise ask you?"

"What he told you," she said seriously. "He asked me to marry him."

"Don't give me that bullshit!"

"It's not bullshit, Draco," she cried. "He asked me."

"He also said you said no."

"_I'm_ also thinking of changing my mind!" she retorted.

His face paled. "You wouldn't do that."

"Oh, can't I?" she said boldly. "I'm free to make my own choices, Draco. I'm a grown woman now, damn it."

"Start acting like one then," he shot back.

"I've had to put up with a lot of _your_ bullshit over the years, Draco. I think I'm entitled to think for myself, thank you."

"Are you really going to leave m—the Manor?" he asked. "Seriously?"

Pansy didn't say anything for what seemed like a long time. "No." He relaxed, but just a bit. "No, I'm not leaving. And the thing with Blaise was just a joke."

"You bitch," he said softly. "You really had me going there."

"I know."

He looked as though he was going to say more, but he merely shook his head. Then he said, "You better go find my mother and let her know war was prevented."

"Okay." Pansy went up the staircase and to Cissa's room. She knocked politely. "Cissa?"

The door opened to let her in. Cissa sat at her desk, writing a letter. She looked up. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Crisis averted. It's safe to come out," Pansy joked. Cissa smiled before going back to her letter. Curious, she asked, "Who are you writing?"

"The caterers. It seems there's been a mix up when they sent me the menu. We were put down for snails instead of crab. What were they thinking?" Cissa asked herself.

Pansy shrugged.

"So, how is your dress coming?" Cissa asked, folding the letter.

"It's lovely. They're finishing it right now and they'll send it over after it's done." Pansy turned to Cissa. "Is everything else in hand?"

"Yes. I think this ball will be a huge success. Draco is a favorite, especially among the mothers with daughters who are of marrying age. I've already received letters asking to broach the idea to him."

This touched a nerve in her. Her voice cold, she asked, "And what did you tell them?"

"I told them that I will not force Draco to marry. I will let him make his own choice," she said wistfully. Cissa bitterly added, "It's something I never got to do when I was young."

Cissa then looked at Pansy longingly. "I always wanted a daughter, you know. That's how I've come to regard you as these past weeks." Pansy felt herself flush slightly. Cissa smiled tiredly. "My biggest wish for you is to find the one man who makes you happy. You deserve to be happy, Pansy."

"Cissa…" Words failed her. What could she say to such a thing?

There was a knock at the door and Draco opened it slightly. "Who died?" he asked jokingly with just a slight tone of seriousness.

Pansy stood. "I'll leave you to finish, Cissa."

Cissa nodded and Pansy stepped past Draco into the hallway. He asked, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing important really. Just things for the ball Saturday." Draco followed her to the library. "Was he invited?"

He knew who she was talking about. Draco looked away from her to the desk. "You must understand, Pans. I had to. What…happened is not common knowledge. His parents don't know and if I did not send them an invitation, questions would be raised. We—you—can't afford that." He added, "He'll find a way to cry off. He's afraid of you now."

Pansy repressed the shudder that itched to go through her body. She did not like to remember the how and why he was afraid of her.

On the morning of the ball, Cissa was at her best. The fiercest Death Eater would not dare to challenge her. Pansy decided this was why most of the married Death Eaters had wives who were excellent at social gatherings. That way, they would not have to worry themselves over anything as trivial what flower coordinates with what color scheme of the ball that coordinates with what music.

Pansy's head spun with the intricate designs that Cissa made. She tried to help that first hour and finally Cissa pushed her out the door to find other pursuits.

She decided to eat a quick lunch before taking a nap in her room. Afterwards, she

Draco wisely had taken refuge in the library.

Again.

"Typical," she muttered as she went to the gardens. The sun shone brightly as it descended in the sky. The sky was dark blue, but near the horizon, it was the clearest blue. It reminded her of Blaise's eyes.

"What's typical?"

_Speak of the devil_, she thought, turning to face Blaise.

"Draco."

Blaise stepped out on to the terrace, hands clasped behind his back. Her eyes flitted up and down his body furtively. His position pulled his shirt taut over his chest. He didn't notice.

"What's he up to now?"

"He's barricaded himself in the library."

Chuckling, Blaise shook his head. "I have to say I've always wondered what he does in there when he's by himself."

Although her thoughts turned to wicked things, Pansy offered, "Reading, maybe?"

Blaise shrugged. He looked down at her. "You excited for tonight?"

It was her turn to shrug. "You've been to one ball, you've been to them all."

He went back to studying the horizon. Sighing, he said, "Yeah, I suppose that's true."

The silence stretched between them, but it did not turn awkward. They were comfortable in each other's presence.

A sudden thought made her smile. Pansy said, "Draco and I had a fight the day we were in Diagon Alley. He asked me what you really asked me." She laughed. "I said what you said, that you proposed."

"What did he do?" Blaise asked neutrally.

"He said that was bullshit and that I had said no anyway to you. That made me angry. Draco's always been so sure of himself. I just…wanted to shake him up. So I said I was thinking of changing my mind. I was a grown woman, free to make my own decisions or something. He shouted to start acting like one. I don't remember what was said next, but then he asked quietly if I was really going to leave."

Blaise asked, "What did you say then?"

"I told him no. I wasn't. That you and me were a joke." Pansy looked down, not quite sure what made her tell him what happened.

"He really does care, you know," Blaise said suddenly. "I know Draco isn't as warm as most would have him, but that doesn't mean he's without feeling."

Smiling weakly, she turned to him. "I know. It's just…I don't know."

He pulled her into a long hug. He didn't have to ask to know that she needed one. Pansy sighed and let his heat seep into the cold within her. They stayed that way for a few minutes.

Then Blaise had to ruin it. "Does this mean you changed your mind?"

Pansy pinched his lower back. "Jerk."

"Ow! What did I say?"

Laughing, she said, "Oh, Blaise, you lovable rogue, you!"

Quirking a black eyebrow, he asked, "You think so, huh?" He raised a hand and blew on his fingernails. Brushing them against his shirt, he said self-importantly, "I _am_ quite lovable."

She rolled her eyes. "And Granger is a dominatrix."

That brought a huge grin to his face. "I've always wondered if that rumor was true. How else could she keep two guys by her side if she didn't get all freaky with them? Do you think she takes clients from other Houses?"

"Shut up, Blaise, You know I was just saying that," she retorted. Then she added, "If she was, I seriously doubt she'd take clients from Slytherin."

"That's fucked up. Why not give Slytherins equal opportunity to see her with a whip and in a black leather bra and pan—"

"Blaise! I don't need that image in my mind," she shouted. Why did he always seem to describe his sexual fantasies to her?

"I was only teasing, Pans." He slung an arm about her and started into the house. "Do I get a sneak peek at your dress, then?"

Before she could answer, Draco asked, "When did you get here, Blaise?"

"Some time ago. I teased Cissa a little before moving on to my favorite girl here." He looked down at her and squeezed her slightly.

She noticed Draco's eyes were guarded again. She asked him, "What are you up to now?"

"Just killing time before getting ready." He glanced at the clock at the end of the hall.

6:24 p.m.

"Blaise, you better get back home and get ready. You're still coming with your family, aren't you?" Draco asked.

"Of course, but I can be ready in half an hour. The ball doesn't start until 8 o'clock, Draco." Blaise's arm dropped from her and he stepped close to Draco. He whispered something to him and Draco looked at Pansy before talking to Blaise.

"Pansy, you should be upstairs doing whatever to get ready," Draco said. The steely determined gleam in his eyes warned her not to argue.

She sighed. "Fine, I'll go and leave you two to plot your dumb plans."

* * *

The ball was in full swing and Pansy was currently circulating. She spotted a few members of Slytherin and many of the alumni. After dancing quite a few numbers and greeting several of Cissa's friends, she found herself in a conversation with a very intoxicated Prudence Bulstrode.

Pansy managed to get away and inform Cissa about the situation. Then she went to find Milli and spotted her on the dance floor dancing with Draco.

Smiling, she stepped closer to the edge to watch them.

An arm wrapped itself about her waist and she found herself on the dance floor as well. Surprised as hell, she looked into her abductor's face.

"Damn it, Blaise," she hissed. "You could have asked."

"And miss the look on your face? I don't think so," he teased. Then he asked, "Having fun so far?"

"I was until Prudence Bulstrode pulled me to the side. She was completely gone, I think. Cissa took care of the problem though," Pansy remarked about the earlier incident.

Blaise shivered. "I get the worst shiver down my spine when I think of how Bulstrode has to grow up in that house."

"Milli?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah. Having alcoholics for parents doesn't really promote much of any normal childhood." Truth colored his statement. That led her to wonder if he had any experience with alcoholic parents.

Pansy looked over the ballroom rather than having to gaze at Blaise's serious blue eyes. Cissa really outdid herself. The overall tone of the large room was dark, but Cissa complemented that darkness with a few choice colors like a lighter shade of green to bring out the faint color of the stained glass windows. It was rather hard to describe actually, Pansy thought. It was dark, but there was a lightness to the air to combat the otherwise oppressiveness of the room.

The laughter and buzz of conversation also contributed to the lightness.

"Pansy, are you nervous for school?" Blaise asked suddenly.

She had to think. "Yes, I am, but…I'm also looking forward to it. This year is going to be different. Things are changing."

"Yes, the pieces are moving," he mused aloud. His eyes caught hers. "Do you worry about Voldemort?"

She looked away. "Sometimes," she admitted. "He will pay for what he's done."

"He will, Pans. I hate what he's made you into now."

Pansy stared at him. "You mean…you would rather have me continue to be that spiteful, hateful bitch I was?"

"Yes…I mean, no…I hate it when every answer is the wrong one." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I just wish that you hadn't been exposed to this world Draco and I are in. I wish you hadn't been violated in a way no woman should be. I wish then that you hadn't killed your defiler. I wish you could be that silly little girl I knew last year and the year before and the year before that. But none of that matters because everything did happen. I wish I could change all that, but I can't."

"Blaise…" What could she say?

"I…I'm worried about you, Pansy," he said. "I'm worried that you will grow to resent Draco and I."

She shook her head. "No, that will never happen, Blaise. The both of you mean more to me than ever. You've both been there for me when I was in my darkest hour. I don't know if I can ever repay you for all you have done for me. But know that I will never resent you."

The music ended.

"Blaise, Pansy."

Pansy turned her head to see Draco and Milli draw near. Then she realized she was still in Blaise's arms and that he still held her. He realized that, too, and stepped away from her. They met each other's eyes and looked away.

"Enjoying yourselves?" asked Draco, throwing a quick look at Blaise.

Blaise shrugged. He looked down at Pansy. "Of course. A beautiful woman in your arms can make anything enjoyable."

Milli snorted lightly and Blaise narrowed his eyes at her. Pansy quickly said, "Milli, I just love your dress."

Milli flicked her dark eyes towards her and smiled. She looked down at her dress, smoothing a hand over the shimmering gray fabric. "Thank you. You know, Draco was saying the same thing when we were dancing."

"Pans, Millicent," interrupted Draco, "Blaise and I will leave you two to talk, okay?"

Pansy took in Blaise's sudden fidgetiness and nodded. "Fine."

The two disappeared into the crowd. Milli grabbed her arm and Pansy glanced at her.

"Are you and Blaise going out?" she asked quietly.

Pansy scoffed. "Don't be daft. Blaise and I are just friends, that's all. You know he's a big flirt to nearly anything with boobs." She studied Milli's blank face. "Why do you ask?"

Milli only shrugged. "Just curious. What about you and Draco?"

"What about it?" Pansy asked.

"It just seems like there's something going on between you two. I mean there's so much tension between you two." Mill playfully pushed her. "Come on, Pans, I know there's something there."

Again, she scoffed. "Oh, please. If there was _anything_ going on, you'd be the first to know, but as it is, nothing's happening."

"But you do want something to happen, don't you?" Milli asked slyly.

_His strong arms held her close as she cried. Then quite suddenly, he was kissing her. In a panic, she hit his chest, forgetting who it was holding her, but he just kept kissing her. It felt so good, she just wanted to—_

"Pansy?"

Shaking her head, that memory faded away. Looking into Milli's eyes, Pansy smiled and said, "No. We're good as friends. Besides, I want my last year to be as uneventful as possible."

Milli rolled her eyes. "Like that's going to happen."

"Yeah," agreed Pansy quietly. Someone then called her name and she turned to see Cissa waving her over. Sighing, she said to Milli, "Sorry, but duty calls."

"Don't worry about it, Pans," Milli said. "Go do your thing and find me later."

Nodding, Pansy left her side for Cissa.

The rest of the ball passed by uneventfully, but Draco and Blaise were nowhere to be seen. Pansy wondered what they were up to all the while.

* * *

**Again, I'm so sorry that this chapter took this long to write. I feel that this chapter was a kind of filler. The date right now is the last Saturday of August. The next chapter is when Pansy and the others are getting on the Hogwarts Express. Hopefully, that chapter won't be so hard or take long to write. And don't forget to review. It makes me feel loved and happy.**

**Always—TG**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** I love you guys for reviewing the first part of this chapter. You didn't have to, but thank you anyway! So here is the rest of it. I'm so happy I'm done. Aren't you? Well, duh, of course, you are. Happy reading!**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_Someone then called her name and she turned to see Cissa waving her over. Sighing, she said to Milli, "Sorry, but duty calls."_

"_Don't worry about it, Pans," Milli said. "Go do your thing and find me later."_

_Nodding, Pansy left her side for Cissa. _

_The rest of the ball passed by uneventfully, but Draco and Blaise were nowhere to be seen. Pansy wondered what they were up to all the while._

**Chapter Twelve**

"Parkinson."

"Granger."

The girls nodded to one another. In the carriage at the very front of the train, all the prefects gathered to meet and greet one another. They were also to get their instructions from the new Head Boy and Girl.

Draco looked at Pansy curiously, but said nothing. Blaise, on the other hand, teased, "Glad to see your best friend?"

"Shut your mouth before I do it for you," she snapped. Although she and Granger had reached some sort of mutual truce, that did not mean she was going to be sharing gossip with the Gryffindor anytime soon. Weasley caught her eye and Pansy stared him down.

Turning a dull red, he looked away.

Blaise took her by the hand and led her to the chairs waiting for the prefects. Sitting down, Pansy watched Draco talk with Granger. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides. He didn't want to speak to her, but he was forcing himself.

Finally, the meeting was called to order. Much of it was the same as the past two years, but was repeated for the sake of the new fifth year prefects. Pansy tuned out Draco and Granger's voices until Blaise nudged her in the arm. Shooting him an annoyed glance, Pansy looked at Draco.

"Here are the patrolling schedules. Learn them and abide by them."

Granger broke in. "And also, as we have a higher status than the other students, please don't abuse your power. Otherwise, courses of actions will be implemented harshly."

Pansy caught Draco rolling his eyes. Smiling slightly, she took a schedule and handed the rest to Blaise. He took one and handed the pile to the person next to him.

She folded the parchment and stuck it in her pocket.

"This meeting is now over. You can return to your compartments, but we must insist that you all find some time to patrol the carriages for any…hanky panky." Draco's eyes took on a blatant lustful gleam that all the girls recognized and sighed softly. Only she and Granger were unaffected.

Pansy and Blaise stood up. Blaise asked, "You coming, Draco?"

Draco shook his head. "No, Granger and I have some business to discuss, but I'll be there."

Blaise nodded, but Pansy glanced quickly at Granger. She was speaking with Weasley. It was obvious she was trying to get him to leave, but he steadfastly refusing. Granger crossed her arms and said loudly, "Ronald, leave now or you leave me no choice but to take House points _and_ assign detention."

Pansy gulped back the laughter. Weasley's face turned bright red as he spluttered, "B-bu-but, Hermione, you-you can't do that!"

Draco turned to look at Weasley. "Do as she says, Weasley. The sooner you leave, the sooner we can get our business over with, and the sooner she can return to you."

Shaking with anger, Weasley whirled around and stomped out. Blaise whispered, "That's our cue to leave."

Pansy nodded and led the way out. Back in their compartment, Blaise propped his feet up beside her and started to whistle.

"Blaise," he looked at her, "what do you think Draco and Granger are talking about?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Probably trying to reach some kind of middle ground for them to stand on. Draco didn't want any trouble this year."

"Why?"

"Because of you."

Pansy sat up straight. "What? Why?"

Blaise swung his blue gaze towards her and pinned her in place. "The change in you is obvious. You seem…delicate, vulnerable. Draco is just taking steps to protect you by using his social power and negotiating skills. Me, on the other hand…well, let's just say that I won't hesitate to use my fists."

"What if I don't want your protection?"

"Doesn't matter, Pans. Whether you want it or not, that's not going to stop us from doing what is necessary to ensure that you stay safe this year."

She rolled her eyes and silently counted to ten. It wasn't their call to decide how she should live her life this year at school. Merlin, she was going to be watched all year! It was stupid. She could protect herself well enough. Nott wasn't reckless enough to come after her. The only thing she should be worried about is passing her classes.

"Zabini, I am old enough to look after myself now. As much as I _appreciate_ you and Draco's efforts, you must let me have my space…allow me to make mistakes, you know." Pansy stared steadily at Blaise. "I know that my sudden change of habit—person, whatever—is going to cause a lot of talk. I know that and I'm prepared for it. But if you're worried about Nott, don't be. He's never going to approach me again. I made sure of it as you know."

Blaise looked away. She still felt slightly ashamed that she did what she did. He didn't want her to take that final step, but she did it anyway. Pansy wondered if he ever killed someone.

"Pans…shit, I don't know how to say this," Blaise muttered. "Voldemort is planning certain events and the school may be involved. Draco and I won't be able to protect you if that should happen. We just want to cover all our bases. That's all."

Hogwarts? Voldemort might attack Hogwarts?

_You have power. I spared your life to serve me faithfully._

The message Voldemort left her on Violet's body came unbidden to her mind. Was there another meaning to the letter? What did he have in store for her?

The compartment door slid open. Pansy and Blaise both looked up to see Draco step in. He adjusted his robes unconsciously. He had a satisfied expression on his pale face.

Blaise started to say something, but Draco shook his head. Blaise raised his brows, but didn't say anything more.

Draco passed her, pushed Blaise's feet off the seat, and sat down beside her. A fleeting thought prodded her to ask herself why didn't she take the window seat.

"Everything's in order," Draco said. He sighed and his words came out rushed. "I just found out I have to share a dormitory with Granger."

Blaise laughed outright. Pansy looked down at her folded hands. She started to ask, "You mean you have to share…" but trailed off.

Draco rolled his shoulders and explained. "We both get our own bedrooms, but we have to share a bathroom and a common room."

"That brings up something else," said Blaise. "Where do the prefects stay?"

"We stay in our same House dormitories," Pansy answered. "Only the Head Boy and Girl get special privileges."

That brought a smirk to Blaise's face. "Oh, really? Now I wonder exactly what _kind_ of special privileges Draco gets."

"What are you thinking, Blaise?" asked Draco.

"I'm thinking keys to all the doors, passwords, no curfew…late night sleepovers."

Draco smiled at the last comment. "Sleepovers, huh? Not a bad idea."

Pansy counted to ten once more.

"Yeah," Blaise continued, "the Patil twins are looking really good this year. I am definitely getting a piece of that double layer cake."

Pansy stood up. "I'm going now."

"Leaving so soon?" Blaise asked innocently.

The glare she fired at him was hot enough to melt him into a pile of mush—or should have. He continued to blink his big blue eyes at her candidly.

She huffed and left the compartment before she gave in to the urge to punch him. Storming through the train, she didn't see someone else come out of the bathroom just as she passed by.

She hit something she thought vaguely was hard as a wall and fell back, but strong arms caught her before she hit the ground and made a fool of herself.

"Fuck!" he cursed.

Pansy got a grip on his arms and pulled herself back on her feet.

"I'm sorry," she said. She dusted herself off and then looked into emerald green eyes.

Mr. Harry Potter himself.

She tensed automatically. "Potter."

"Parkinson." His green eyes were guarded.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I obviously wasn't watching where I was going."

"Whatever." He shrugged and moved past her back the way she came. Three compartments down, he opened the door and started to go in, but looked back at her quickly. When he saw that she was still staring at him, he shook his dark head and went inside.

Pansy turned around and kept going the way she started. She didn't stop until she reached the prefects car. A quick look around ensured that she was alone. Pansy walked over to one of the sofas and threw herself down.

Blaise could be such a pig. Draco was no better. They could have at least waited until they were alone.

"Why do they subject me to such things?" she asked the empty car. Obviously, they thought she didn't care, which, in a way, was true. She didn't care to a certain extent. Offhand comments were okay, but to have a conversation about it was just too much.

In the silence, Pansy's ears picked up queer sound. She sat up straight and turned her head, trying to figure out what it was and where it came from.

A slight huff drove her towards the back of the car, which was the very front just after the engine. Pansy stepped around the large sofa and gasped.

"Granger?"

The Gryffindor turned her face away from Pansy, but not before she saw her tear-stained face.

"Granger?" Pansy asked again. Her hand reached out to lightly touch Granger's shoulder, but she flinched away. Pansy tried again. "Granger—uh, Hermione?"

It felt so weird to say the girl's first name. A shocking and paralyzing thought caught her off guard.

Did Draco do this? Pucey's face flickered in her mind's eye.

Pansy shook her head resolutely. No, he wouldn't—couldn't—ever do something like that to a girl, even one such as Granger. Never. He'd never force a girl. Not ever.

"Hermione," the girl flinched again, "Hermione, what happened? What's wrong?"

Granger did nothing but try to bury her face further into the carpet. Pansy grounded her teeth in frustration. Just as she reached out to roughly pull her up, Granger began to cry. Dumbfounded, Pansy didn't know what to do, especially when Granger flew from the floor and flung herself into Pansy's arms. If it had been Milli, Pansy was sure she would have put her arms about her and comforted her, but this was not Milli. Awkwardly, she wrapped her arms around Granger's shoulders and patted her back.

"H-h-he tr-tried to—" Granger broke off with a sob.

Heart beating face, Pansy licked her dry lips. "Who was it? Was it Draco?"

Granger shook her head violently. "N-no, it wa-was…I d-don't know. His f-face was strange. It was d-dis-distorted s-somehow."

Pansy leaned back as Granger withdrew from her arms. Granger scrubbed at her face to dry her eyes. Pansy asked, "What happened."

"Malfoy had just left. I was taking a moment to…compose myself." Pansy shot her a sharp look and Granger hurriedly went on. "I heard a sound at the back and I went to investigate thinking it was a student."

"And he wasn't?"

Granger looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she finally said. "He didn't act like a student, but there was something familiar about him. Anyway, I got back here and didn't see anyone. I turned back to go out, and that's when he grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the wall. I hit my head and fell to the floor. He drew me up by my arms and pushed me against the wall again. He said, 'Mind your own business, bitch.' Then he s-slapped me. I cried out, I know I did. He just slapped me again and yelled, 'Shut up!'

" 'What do you want with me?' I asked. He…smirked or something and," Granger shuddered, "and leaned into me. He asked, 'What would you like me to do?' I've never been put in that sort of situation. I didn't know what to say. Then he grabbed me really hard." Granger placed a trembling hand on her breast. "He twisted until I screamed. I don't know what gave me the strength to-to grab him back."

Pansy had to ask. "Grab him where?"

Granger threw her an exasperated you-know-what-I'm-talking-about look. "Where do you think? I grabbed him by the…the crotch. He let go so fast and screamed so high, I was sure someone would have heard, but no one came. I let go and he fell to the floor. I ran by to get someone, but he grabbed me by my ankle and I fell, too. He pulled me back and l-laid on top of me. I couldn't move, couldn't escape. He just…grinded into me." She stopped and swallowed.

"I-I could feel him and he laughed at me. All of a sudden, he got off me and left. I crawled back here, so no one would see me, and then you came in. I tried to be quiet, but you heard me anyway."

Pansy struggled to keep her mouth shut to keep her own story from bursting out. Granger did not have to know what happened with her. That was none of her business. She managed to just say, "Be happy that he didn't go farther, Granger."

"I know. He could've r-raped me, but he didn't." Granger then gave her a long, grateful smile. "Thank you, Par—Pansy. Thank you for listening and," the Gryffindor blushed, "and for holding me while I, you know."

Uncomfortable, Pansy only nodded. "Is that all he said to you? He didn't say anything else?"

Granger shook her head. "No. He just said to mind my own business."

Pansy nodded. How strange it was that Granger would be attacked, especially so close after Draco left. In fact, was her attacker in the room when the prefects were all in here?

"Pansy, you're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Granger suddenly asked.

She looked the Gryffindor in the eyes. Granger looked so pitiful…and helpless. Pansy drew back sharply. No, she was not going to compare herself to Granger. Damned emotions were getting to her. Pansy evaded by saying, "I think you should tell someone."

"No," Granger shook her head. "I couldn't."

"You have to."

"I won't. And neither will you," declared Granger. "Promise you won't say a word to anyone."

"Granger, think about this. If this guy is a student, what's to stop him from coming after you again if he deems you a threat? He is a danger to everyone at Hogwarts." Pansy stared at the girl who was supposedly the top witch in their year. How could she be so dense? She slowly stood. "And it will be because of you."

"Pansy, please don't tell."

She kept going. "What if he targets another girl?"

"Pansy—"

Sighing, she let her off the hook as well as confuse her. "Look, Granger, just think about what I said, okay? Now come with me. Your boyfriends will soon come looking for you and I don't want to be near you when they do."

Confusion painted the girl's face. "What are you…" comprehension blossomed, "oh."

"Yeah, oh. I value my skin way too much, Granger." Pansy wasn't stupid. If she was with Granger, who looked like shit, when the Rescue Squad came looking, there would be no doubt in their minds as to who was responsible. It was widely known that she and Granger did not get along. Pansy wanted to stay out of trouble for Draco's sake and she planned to keep it that way.

Granger stood and allowed Pansy to push her forward. They came upon Weasley and Potter in the next car. She left Granger with her friends quickly and continued on her way. They followed and she squashed the urge to look over her shoulder many times. Needless to say, Pansy could feel the heat of their accusing stares between her shoulder blades like a knife in the back. It was only after they retreated to their compartment could Pansy breathe easily.

When she stepped inside the compartment, Blaise and Draco were asleep. The door was unlocked so she was guessing they had only just fallen asleep. Over all the years she knew them both, they never let anyone see them sleep on the train ride to and from Hogwarts. Shrugging, Pansy locked the door.

She chuckled as she gazed upon Blaise's slack jaw expression. A soft snuffle emanated from him, making him even more adorable than usual. Pansy snickered into her hand and she looked upon Draco. He looked relaxed and peaceful. Even in sleep, his hair was in place.

It just wasn't fair.

Sighing, she took her seat by Draco and gingerly leaned against his shoulder. He shifted and settled down again. Pansy looked over at Blaise and smiled once more at his angelic countenance. She closed her eyes and slept for the rest of the train ride.

Approaching the carriages was a shock. Pansy took in the strangely beautiful animals harnessed to the carriage Draco chose. "So that's what they look like," she breathed. Draco only grunted.

Ever since fifth year, Pansy had wanted to see the threstrals. They were so mysterious and fantastical, even by wizard standards. The leathery wings twitched and the dark skin itself was fascinating. The white eyes were ghostly. They had captured her attention so much that Blaise had to push her into the carriage so they could go, but Pansy poked her head out the window every chance she got.

The castle was the same. The Great Hall was the same. The first years were still terrified. Headmaster Dumbledore's speech was the same. Even the food was the same. Her only source of entertainment was watching Nott determinedly focus on eating what was on his plate.

Once dinner was over, she and Blaise retired to the Slytherin dormitory after bidding Draco goodnight. She decided to tell them what happened on the train with Granger the next day.

In the common room, they nodded to several of their acquaintances. Blaise suddenly sucked in a breath. Startled, Pansy asked, "What is it?"

"Where's Milli?"

"She's…I don't know." Pansy struggled to remember when she last saw the girl. Milli hadn't contacted her on the train, nor did she see her back at King's Cross or on the train. "The last I saw her was Sunday at Diagon Alley."

Blaise watched the door expectantly, as if waiting for Milli to pop in any second. Pansy grabbed his arm. "Come on. She's always in the same bedroom as me. If she's here, then her stuff will be, too."

Dashing up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, Pansy opened the door and surveyed the room. Her trunk and belongings were there. Two other girls were in the room unpacking. Pansy quickly assumed a nonchalant walk and asked, "Where's Bulstrode?"

Morag MacDougal glanced first at Blaise, then at her. Pansy met MacDougal's violet eyes and waited. MacDougal said, "Her stuff isn't here, Parkinson. Maybe she transferred."

Pansy shrugged. "Maybe."

Turning to leave, MacDougal called out her surname. Looking back, Pansy lifted a brow. "Parkinson," MacDougal began, "I just wanted to give you my regards concerning your family. Believe that it came as a shock to us all in general. If you need anything, I-I'm here."

Surprised at MacDougal's uncharacteristic offer, Pansy nodded automatically. "I will remember that and thank you."

She walked out, tamping down her urge to run and to keep running. Blaise wisely kept his mouth shut. At the bottom of the stairs, he asked, "Where the hell could she be?"

"I don't know and it's starting to worry me," Pansy confessed. "Maybe we should owl her."

Blaise nodded. "Good idea." He looked at the clock across the room. "We still have time. Let's go."

Outside the Slytherin common room, they ran into Draco. He said, "Pansy, Dumbledore requests your presence in his office."

"But Blaise and I have to take care of something first," she said.

Draco slightly narrowed his eyes at Blaise. "Then I guess Blaise will have to do it himself."

"Milli is missing, Draco," Pansy blurted before she could think the better of it. Then it hit her. Draco had to know where she is. "Do you know—"

"No, I don't. Pansy, it is important that you meet Dumbledore. I will escort you to his office." Draco's voice booked no argument. Pansy looked at Blaise and he nodded to her. He'd take care of it while she went to Dumbledore.

Sighing, she went with Draco. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors. The castle was silent and there was an unearthly quality to it. Pansy shivered from the cold that came not from the castle, but from within, despite the heavy school robes she wore. That icy core she worked so hard to conceal and forget was growing, slipping tendrils of ice into her system.

She started when Draco put his arm around her. The heat rolling off him was a welcome sensation. She burrowed slightly into him and sighed. Where was Milli?

"It is strange that Dumbledore would speak with you, isn't it?" he asked.

She nodded. "I don't see why he would. You don't think it would have anything to do with-with him, do you? The one I…" she trailed off.

_The one I killed._

"Actually, I think it has more to do with your family. He came to the Manor asking to see you, you know. But you were, well, you weren't yourself, so I didn't allow him to go any further than the front hall."

He came to see her? Why?

They came to the stone hippogriff and Draco muttered the password. The statue receded into the wall and twisted upward revealing a set of stairs. She allowed him to steer her up the stairs to the Headmaster's office. Draco knocked on the door and stepped in. "Pansy Parkinson is here, sir."

Pansy walked in and murmured, "Hello, Headmaster."

The old man's blue eyes twinkled warmly as he beckoned her closer. "Please, Miss Parkinson, do have a seat. Mr. Malfoy, thank you. That is all for tonight."

She felt his gaze on her and she looked at him. "It's okay, Draco. Don't worry about me."

A long moment passed before he nodded. The door closed softly and Pansy looked back at Dumbledore. The alertness she saw in his eyes warned her to speak carefully.

"First off, Miss Parkinson, I am deeply sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked.

_You can bring them back_, she thought bitterly.

Pansy shook her head and said, "Draco took very good care of me when…it happened."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said in a strange voice. Pansy looked at him carefully. "He does take good care of his friends. He has a good heart." The old man lapsed into silence. It was long before he asked, "Were you aware of your father's activities prior to his death, Miss Parkinson?"

She put a troubled expression on her face and shook her head. Pansy knew what her father had been trying to do. He'd been struggling to switch sides, but none on the Light side had believed him.

"It was brought to my attention that he was attempting to find allies in the war. It wasn't on Voldemort's side, but on the Light's. I admit, I didn't quite believe it. Why would Damien Parkinson wish to switch sides? I thought it was a ruse to get a spy on the other side, but then why would Voldemort kill him and his entire family save you? It didn't make sense until I thought Damien was quite sincere in his attempt. Now what I am about to ask you must stay between us, Miss Parkinson. You cannot speak of this to anyone.

"What I want to ask you is this: Will you finish what your father started and join the opposition against Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked seriously. "Of course, you will need time to consider this, and I will happily give it to you."

Pansy stared at the old man. Was he serious? Join the Light and get all chummy with Potter and the rest of the Gryffindors? She looked down at her hands. Sorry, but no. However, she couldn't just flat out say that. That was just too much to ask. Besides, Voldemort was going to die by her hand, not St. Potter's.

Raising her gaze, she met Dumbledore's stare. "I don't need time, Headmaster. I know my decision, and the answer is…no."

"Are you sure, Miss Parkinson, because it seems to me that you haven't given thought to—"

"I am quite sure, quite positive, _quite_ in the right to decline. I want nothing to do with the war."

He sighed. "Yes, you are free to make that choice. You can go now."

"Headmaster, I know I shouldn't ask you this, but Milllicent Bulstrode…she isn't here and I was wondering if you knew anything about her absence?" Pansy stared expectantly at him.

"I'm afraid I don't know anything about why Miss Bulstrode isn't here," he said.

Pansy nodded and turned to leave. She opened the door and murmured goodnight, and left his office. She didn't know what to feel.

She slowly walked back to the dormitory. Her mind was so focused on finding the reasons behind Dumbledore's offer that again she crashed into someone as she rounded a corner. Only this time, instead of catching her, she fell and so did he as he attempted to catch her. Pansy landed on her ass and was plowed into the hard stone floor even further when he fell on top of her.

Just as she sighed, he moved in a certain way that her mind froze up. That night she thought she had forgotten forever rushed back. It was him on top of her. No! He was dead, forever dead!

"Get off me," she whispered. Then she yelled, "GET OFF ME!"

He scrambled off her in a second. "All right! I'm off!"

The sharp voice penetrated the phantoms of her mind. She knew that voice. Pansy wanted to scream again. Why did it have to be Potter?

She shook her head to clear any remnants of her near panic attack. Pansy stood up and glanced quickly at him. "Sorry. I-I-I don't know what I was thinking."

Potter gave her the once over. "I don't know either. Uh, hey, I just wanted to say…sorry for your family and for Ron bringing it up the way he did."

"Don't lie to me, Potter," she snapped. "I remember that day. I remember your face light up with joy as your _friend_ said it. You loved it. So don't try to sell me anything that is less than genuine."

"Have you ever told the truth, Parkinson?" he snapped back.

"What does the truth matter to you coming from someone like me?" she sneered. When he said nothing, she nodded. "That's what I thought. It means nothing."

Sick of this confrontation, Pansy pivoted on her heel and walked away, leaving Potter to go to hell if he wished.

* * *

**-Hi! On schedule as promised. I'm so happy this is done. I had a very fun Spring Break. I got to sleep and watch movies. Very fun, but I didn't get to see any of my friends because their Break was the week before mine. I wanted to cry. Well, anywho, review it and tell me what you think. Love ya guys!**

**—TG**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**A/N:**** Thanks for being so patient, people. Sorry the update took so long. Love ya!**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

"_Have you ever told the truth, Parkinson?" he snapped back._

"_What does the truth matter to you coming from someone like me?" she sneered. When he said nothing, she nodded. "That's what I thought. It means nothing."_

_Sick of this confrontation, Pansy pivoted on her heel and walked away, leaving Potter to go to hell if he wished. _

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Granger really needs to keep her mind on what she wants_, Pansy thought as she recounted what happened to the Gryffindor to Blaise and Draco. _Especially if she wants something from a Slytherin._

She kept a close watch on Draco as she did. If he had anything to do with this, she'd—hmm, what would she do? Curse him? Kill him?

But all through her story, Draco had a light frown on his face, his eyes unguarded. He choked when she suggested Granger's attacker was in the car during the prefect meeting. Pansy had to conclude that he had nothing to do with it.

"And she didn't once reach for her wand?" asked Blaise. "What sort of witch forgets she's a witch? I mean—"

Pansy interrupted. "_I_ didn't have my wand, Zabini, but even if I did, I very much doubt I would have used it. When you are faced with a threat, one that is shared universally by women, it doesn't occur to you to whip it out and use it. A man is bigger and uses his body to assault you, not spells. You react instinctively."

"Isn't using your wand instinctive, Pansy? You are, after all, a pureblood," said Draco, his silvery gray eyes heated.

"I am a woman first and foremost, Draco," she said softly, wishing she hadn't spoken up in Granger's, and hers, defense. "Magic is second."

It was late in the afternoon around five o'clock, after all their classes. They were by the lake. It was quiet and the weather quite agreeable. The other students kept their distance. Blaise, who was looking out across the lake, asked between clenched teeth, "Will she be okay?"

Pansy studied Blaise. Why was he angry? Because he asked about Granger or was it something else she didn't know about? "Granger's strong. I don't believe this will consume her, but I want to find out who did this."

"As do I," said Draco. The serious timbre of his voice went to the center of her soul. He sounded dangerous, and she could nearly believe that he was Voldemort's youngest and most trusted assassin. "A student like that will endanger us all, regardless of his alliance to either side or to himself."

"Well, how do we go about catching this guy?" Blaise turned to face them. "Granger's description of this 'student' doesn't help us."

Pansy tapped her chin thoughtfully. "With all the books she's read, I'm positive she'll know which spell was used. The only problem is how do we get the information out of her?"

Draco and Blaise shared a look. Then Draco smiled, "Looks like you're going to get a new best friend."

"Oh, hell no!" she cried. "No way in bloody hell am I gonna play nice with her."

"Pansy, you're being unreasonable." Blaise sat on the grass beside her. "It's not like we're asking you to get all sorts of dirt on her." He chuckled, "Actually, can you ask if that dominatrix rumor is true?"

"No time for that, Blaise," Draco put in. "Pans, can you do it?"

She looked from Blaise to Draco and then upwards. She sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll do it, but if I start asking questions about it, she'll know I told someone, probably you two."

"Worry about that when you come to it, Pans." Blaise smiled at her. "But do ask her, okay?"

"Blaise," she sighed.

Draco ignored Blaise and said, "Get to it, Pansy."

"Now?"

Draco crossed his arms. Blaise glanced at him and did the same, putting a stern look.

"I hate you guys," Pansy muttered, getting up.

She started to dust her ass off when Blaise shot up. Excited, he said, "No, no, Pans. I'll do that for you."

His hand got one glancing blow before she jumped behind Draco. She said, "You pervert."

Blaise raised his hands up in a shrug. "I am what I am. Take me and love me."

"Pansy, go do what you have to. I need to have a good ol' chat with Blaise here." Draco didn't even look at her when he said this. Pansy frowned, but she did what he said.

Walking around the castle, Pansy didn't have the first clue of where to look for Granger. It wasn't as if she could go up to someone ask, "Excuse me, but do you know where Granger is?"

She snorted to herself. Yeah, that was likely. Why did she have to be the one to interrogate her? Draco could do that possibly even better than she could. No, she didn't mean that. It was better that Pansy did it than Draco. She could not forget Granger's little slip up the day before.

_I was taking a moment to…compose myself._

That brought too many ideas of what Draco did to make Granger lose her composure. Nope, Granger would just have to stay the hell away from Draco.

_Right, like they could stay away from each other,_ she thought. _They live together, and no doubt spend some part of the day together._

Pansy didn't know why this was making her feel jealous. She had no claim on Draco. Yes, he cared for her. He let her live in his house, for Merlin's sake! He was basically there for her, and so was Blaise. It just didn't make any fucking sense.

Stalking around the castle was beginning to earn her suspicious looks. Pansy didn't like that. She wanted to stay out sight, or out of mind at least.

_Come on, Parkinson, use that brain of yours. Where would a girl like Granger spend her time at? The Gryffindor common room? Nah, those loud braggarts would grate on her nerves as she tried to study…STUDY!_

Of course! Stupid her! The library was the most logical and predictable choice. Pansy shook her head and started towards the library.

Bursting through the doors like a madwoman earned her a reproving "SH!" from Madam Pince. Pansy met the older woman's glare with a smirk and walked into the library as quiet as can be.

_Look for a bushy head. Big, brown, and bushy, have you seen her?_

Pansy looked down the rows of books, searching for Granger. She even went for a look at the tables. No sign of her anywhere—there she is.

Granger was at the very back, nearly hidden by a bookcase. No one was at any of the tables, but Pansy still didn't quite trust enough to go straight to the Gryffindor. So she took the long way, making her way through the bookcases to the very back table.

She surprised Granger by popping out of nowhere. Granger gasped and dropped the book she was reading.

Pansy smirked, pleased she'd been able to sneak up on her. She took another careful look around, making sure she was not visible to anyone on the other side of the room. Then she sat down. "So, what is it that you're reading so intently?"

She snatched the book before Granger could move.

"No!" Granger hissed, making a grab of the book.

Pansy only smirked deeper and looked at the pages…her jaw dropped. Shocked as all hell, she whispered, "Granger! Your reading material does not meet school standards." She turned the book sideways. "First of all, the man clearly has no idea of what he's doing nor does the woman. That particular position is probably painful."

"Pansy, give it back," she pleaded.

"I would never have thought you to be the type to look at this sort of thing."

"Don't say it."

"Really, you're such a good girl, too."

"No…"

"But looking at sex books? I'm disappointed in you, Granger." Ah, it felt so good to annoy her. She could do this forever, but she was on a mission. Pansy tossed the book carelessly back to her. "Fine. I guess that Dominatrix thing isn't true then?"

Granger rolled her eyes. "I'm so tired of hearing about that. Honestly, I have no idea how that rumor got started."

Pansy thought on her words and smiled. "I don't hear you denying it, Granger. My good friend Blaise Zabini wants to know if you'd take clients from Slytherin. You can get back to him about that later. I have business to discuss with you."

Granger looked at her suspiciously. "Business? What kind of business?"

"The incident that happened on the train, the man," Pansy said. "You said his face was distorted somehow. Would that be the result of a spell?"

The girl scoffed. "Why are you asking me? I just want to forget it ever happened." Granger's gaze sharpened. "You told someone, didn't you? You said you wouldn't—"

"I said no such thing," Pansy interrupted. "Look, I'm trying to get this guy. Can you help me or not."

"Who did you tell, Pansy?"

"That's not the point, Granger."

"You told Malfoy, didn't you? Let me guess, he laughed when you told him I'd been assaulted. He probably—"

"Shut the fuck up, Granger. You don't know anything about Draco. Besides, he does not like the idea of a female being assaulted," Pansy snarled. "Even if it is you."

Granger seemed to get the picture that she'd gone too far. In a subdued voice, she asked, "Is that why you're here? To get information from me in hopes of catching this man before he can hurt another girl?"

Pansy nodded.

"If he was using a spell to disguise himself, it could have been any number of them." Granger fell silent. "I think I can narrow it down to two or three spells based on what I saw. I'll write them down for you, Pansy."

She watched Granger pull out a bit of parchment and quill, and scribbled them down. Granger slid it across the table. Pansy took it and read it.

"Even with this, Granger, I'm no closer to getting him. You said he was somehow familiar." Pansy paused to figure out where she was going with this. "Yet, his face was unrecognizable. What if we could get his image from your mind and freeze it in some way? Perhaps then we could do the counterspell and see his face."

"How? Unless you have a Pensieve, Pansy, I don't see how your plan will work," said Granger.

_Okay, she's getting a little too friendly using my first name_, thought Pansy.

"I know Dumbledore has a Pensieve, but I seriously doubt he'd allow us to use it."

"I know someone who has one," she murmured. The words were out before she could recall them. She had to backtrack fast. "But I don't know if he'd let us use it."

Actually, she knew he would. Draco seemed to think this guy was a threat. Huh, okay, he _was_ a threat. Draco would do anything and everything to get him.

"Do you really think we'll catch him?" Granger asked.

Pansy looked at her. "We?" She tipped her head to one side to play for some time. It would give Granger closure on the whole thing, and she's a sucker for doing the right thing, but when it comes to dealing out the punishment, she'd have to be out. "Fine. You can help…so long as you don't mind working with Draco and Blaise."

She smirked when she caught Granger's subtle shudder.

"I'll have to talk to my guy about the Pensieve first, though," Pansy said. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"How will I talk to you? It's not as if I can go up to you in public, Pansy. Your House would tear me to shreds," she chuckled lightly, "that is if they get to me before my own House does."

"You're Head Girl. I'm sure you can use that excuse, but just be sure not to use it too much. Then it will be suspicious." Pansy stood up to leave. "I'll speak to you later."

_Don't say my name, Granger. Don't say my name—_

"Wait, Pansy…"

That was just too much.

She snapped, "I don't believe I gave you leave to use my first name, _Granger._"

That made the Gryffindor stutter something awful. She babbled incoherently.

"Look, if you're going to work with Slytherins, here's the first rule. Do not ever use their first name. That would indicate a certain level of trust and respect. I don't trust you because you're in Gryffindor, and as for respect…it's up in the air for me."

Granger merely nodded. Satisfied, Pansy then left her in the library alone.

Draco was not going to like that Granger working with them, but it was something of a lucky break. As they had their own dormitory, they could use it to meet and discuss ways of bringing this bastard down.

"Hey, Parkinson!" someone called.

Pansy turned on reflex. She nearly cursed when she saw Harry Potter coming down the corridor towards her. His eyes locked onto hers. The challenging gleam in them made her wait instead of walking off and ignoring him.

When he was close enough, she asked in a bored drawl, "What do you want, Potter?"

"Explain to me why I should let you go."

Huh?

"What the hell are you talking about, Potter?" she asked scathingly.

Potter stopped a mere foot away. Pansy gritted her teeth when she was forced to look up to him. He was as tall as Draco. She hated tall boys.

"Explain to me why I should let you go when you've…upset Hermione yesterday on the train," he said seriously. "I only let you pass because I was so concerned about her. Now, I want answers."

Of all the things he had to say to her! But she didn't miss his pause and the way his eyes lost their hardened edge. What was going through that ego-ridden head of his?

"What did she tell you?"

"Some bullshit story of a guy not leaving her alone when you came along."

_That's close enough._

Pansy forced herself to scoff. "Well, I don't know what to tell you because that's the truth. You don't have to believe that I have a soft spot in me when I see a girl being badgered by an utterly disgusting guy."

She started to walk away. He called after her. "That's bullshit. You know it and I know it."

Pansy stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Good thing it doesn't matter to me what _you_ think, isn't it?"

Potter stared at her with an indescribable look on his face. Then he whispered, "I know, Parkinson."

"You know what? My cup size?"

He ignored that jab. He continued to look at her, but what unnerved her the most was that he seemed to be looking inside of her. Potter whispered, "I know what happened this summer."

She was frozen. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He couldn't know, couldn't possibly know. Everything she'd locked away from that night—every emotion, thought, memory—all of it was screaming. Her control was rapidly slipping. The only thing that passed her lips before she fled was, "No, you don't."

Pansy ran all the way to the Slytherin dormitory, desperate to find Draco or Blaise. The shield she kept around the events that led to her fall from grace was breaking. She ran up to their room and pounded on the door until it was opened by Goyle. She shoved her way past him and dashed into the room. Draco was sitting on his bed reading a letter, but when he saw her, his eyes widened in alarm and he sat up.

He ordered Crabbe and Goyle out, as well as another boy whose name escaped her at the moment. The second the door closed, she flung herself into his arms before he could even raise himself off the bed and began to sob. He held her all the while in his lap, stroking her hair and whispering, "It's all right."

When she managed to get a grip of herself, she apologized and moved off his lap to beside him. Then she related what had just happened. "How could he know, Draco?"

"Before we jump to conclusions, Pans, let's make sure of what exactly he knows. I'll take care of it tonight." He looked at the clock beside his bed. "Dinner's starting. Are you able to face the Great Hall?"

Pansy took a mental inventory of herself and found herself lacking. She shook her head. "I can't, Draco. He'll be watching me. I can't f-face him."

Her eyes started to water again. She was beginning to despise herself. Draco only hugged her close. "Shh. Don't worry, Pansy." He rubbed her back and then he said, "Here, lay down. Go to sleep."

"Here?" she asked.

His gray eyes flashed with annoyance. "Unless you want to go back to your room."

She shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine."

Nervously, she laid down. Draco went to the chest at the foot of his bed and opened it. He took out a blanket and unfolded it, draping it over her. As he tucked it around her, Pansy breathed in deeply, taking in the clean scent of him and drawing comfort from his familiar scent.

He sat down beside her. "Go to sleep, Pans. You'll feel better after you've gotten some rest. Don't worry, I'll take care of Potter."

Draco started to rise, but Pansy grabbed hold of his wrist. Looking up at him, Pansy whispered, "Stay with me? Just until I fall asleep…please?"

She felt pleasure when his pale eyes softened and warmed as he looked at her. Draco nodded and he laid down beside her. Pansy sighed, comforted by his warm presence and scent. His arm wrapped around her, drawing her close to his chest, and that was the last thing she was aware of.

* * *

Draco watched Pansy sleep. Her eyelashes were crescent moons upon her pale cheeks. Her berry-stained lips slightly open in slumber. She was relaxed and deeply asleep. He knew that from watching her sleep so many times at the Manor, keeping guard against her nightmares.

He'd heard of a muggle story of a beautiful girl who'd pricked herself on a spinning wheel and fell into a deep sleep. In the story, she could only be awoken with a kiss from her prince. Sleeping Beauty, that's what they called her. Pansy looked like Sleeping Beauty. He wondered who would be the one to wake her.

He shook his head at his thoughts. This was not the time to be thinking of something like that. A certain wizard was due for an interrogation.

A sneer settled on his face. He shouldn't have forgotten that Potter was connected to Voldemort. That meant it was possible he knew what had happened to Pansy.

Draco looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. A strange feeling clawed at his chest. She had to be protected. He would never allow her to be hurt again. Never.

On this thought, he carefully pulled away from her and left the bed. Pansy rolled over, settling on the very spot he had been. She sighed deeply and continued to sleep. Draco pulled the curtains shut and put a protection spell on the curtains, ensuring she remained asleep and undisturbed. No one could touch the curtains without being blown off their feet. Only those who knew the counterspell could take it off.

He left the dormitory and went directly to the Great Hall. He sat down at the Slytherin table in his usual place and scanned the Gryffindors for Potter. As soon as Draco picked him out, he then began to eat a few bites here and there, but not really touching his food.

Blaise leaned close and asked, "Where's Pansy?"

"She's asleep. Potter shook her up, so after dinner, I'll be having a conversation with the bastard."

"What did he say?" Blaise asked concerned.

Draco looked at his friend. He didn't like that Blaise was as protective as he was. Draco stopped and inwardly scoffed. There was no reason he should be acting or feeling like this.

"He said something about knowing what happened this summer."

"Damn it," Blaise swore. He looked angrily in Potter's direction before turning back to him. "You want a hand?"

"No, but there is something I need you to do."

"What?"

Draco pushed his plate away and asked, "Are you going to eat any more?" Blaise shook his head. "Follow me then." Outside the Great Hall, Draco said, "Right now, Pansy is sleeping in our room on my bed." He didn't miss Blaise's narrowed gaze. "I need you to go to the kitchens and get her something to eat. Then go back to the room and make sure she's okay."

"You didn't…" Blaise trailed off, but his implication was clear.

"No, I didn't touch her in any way you're thinking, Zabini." Students began to leave the Great Hall, and he lowered his voice. "As if I'd take advantage of her like that."

"Had to be sure," he said. "Don't worry, Draco. I'll look after her."

Draco nodded. He spotted Potter alone. "Okay, I'm going after him. I'll see you later."

Blaise grinned. "Fine, but I want details."

He followed Potter at a discreet distance until they turned down a deserted corridor. Draco made sure no one was behind him before he called out. "Hey, Potter. I want to talk to you."

Potter put on an expression of mock surprise. "The Great Draco Malfoy wants to talk? To me? What have I done to invite this?"

"What the hell did you say to Pansy?"

"Your girlfriend?" Potter asked sarcastically. He shrugged carelessly. "I just told her I knew what went on this summer."

"And what was that?" he asked in a low voice.

Potter looked around and leaned towards him. In an equally low voice, he said, "Pucey."

His gut clenched painfully. There was no way he could know. Voldemort said he controlled the connection. He would not have allowed Potter to know what transpired. Draco forced an easy smirk. "What about Pucey? How's he doing?"

"He's dead, and you were there."

Draco's eyes widened in heartfelt shock. "Really?"

Potter smiled. "You don't really believe that Voldemort would sever the connection between us, do you? He's too desperate for information to do that." He adjusted his robes. "So, now that I know, what are _you_ going to do?"

He strolled up to Potter easily, hands in his robe pockets. "Well, first off," he looked up, "you made her upset." Draco struck Potter in the face. Potter fell against the wall. "Second, you made the mistake of flaunting your hand. Third, just what the hell were you thinking, Potter?"

Anger flared in Potter's eyes. He stood up quickly. "You think I care what happens to your little bitch? God knows I should go straight to Dumbledore and tell him everything."

Rage threatened to consume him. He was losing control. No one would ever hurt her again. Draco lunged at Potter and fisted his hands in the Gryffindor's robes. He pulled him off the wall and slammed him hard against it.

"Well, why didn't you?" asked Draco.

Potter looked away from his glare, his face troubled. "I had a feeling there was something else behind it, something I didn't know."

"There is." Draco let go and moved away.

"What?"

"You don't want to know, Potter," Draco said, his head hung low. He could still feel that tingle of failure. "And you're better off not knowing, trust me."

"Hey, I've heard the stories about him, Malfoy. I've heard he was a bastard even by Slytherin standards. So if Pucey got what he deserved, then the hell with him." Potter stepped close to Draco. "But if that isn't the case, then I have to do what's right and turn you and her in for murder."

Draco looked sharply at him. "You wouldn't understand, Potter. What he did to her is something I would never wish upon another person, not even Granger, and I detest her more than you can possibly guess. He did deserve to die. I wish he died a million—no, an infinite—times more."

"What happened?"

The heartfelt concern on Potter's face nearly made him spill the entire story, but then Draco remembered who he was talking to. The mask hardened and he watched the wary look come back to Potter's eyes.

"What do you care?" sneered Draco. "She's just a little bitch to you, remember? She doesn't need your help, Golden Boy. We'll get through this by ourselves."

Potter glared at him. "Why can't you accept help when it's offered?"

"Slytherins don't take charity," Draco spat.

His face softening, Potter whispered, "It's okay to lean on someone once in a while, Malfoy. Let me help."

Disgusted by how much he actually wanted to take Potter up on his offer, Draco spun away. "You don't understand how it's done, Potter. For others, it might be okay to accept help, but not for me, not when I've—"

He broke off, not willing to share anymore with his rival. Draco shook his head and finished what he was going to say in his mind.

_Not when I've killed so many. I don't deserve it._

"Malfoy…"

"_Slytherins_ don't take charity," Draco repeated firmly. "Especially from people who should know better." He turned around to face Potter, fingering his wand. "Now, why don't you run along before I finish you off once and for all."

Potter looked from Draco's wand to his face. "If you kill me, there'd be no one to stop Voldemort. You don't want that, do you?"

Draco shrugged. "There are others who have a better chance of stopping him than you, Potter. You'd be no big loss."

"I would be. Without me, Voldemort would triumph. A prophecy tells of it—"

Sneering, Draco said, "Just because there's a prophecy, it doesn't actually mean it will come true the way it says. Anything is possible, Potter."

"You're a fool, Malfoy," Potter said, shaking his head. "You could have been a great asset to the Light. People will die because of your choice."

"As long as it's the people under my protection who will live, I don't care," Draco replied. His eyes grazed the lightning scar on Potter's forehead. "If you murmur but a word about her, I'll kill you, Potter."

"I won't say a word, Malfoy, but you have to tell me why she did it," Potter bartered. "Otherwise, I'm going straight to Dumbledore."

Draco gauged the sincerity of Potter's threat to be genuine. What choice did he have? Say no and be arrested? Let Pansy be taken without giving her the opportunity of getting her revenge?

He doubted Voldemort would be pleased that his favorite assassin and potential weapon were arrested. That would mess up whatever plans he had. Of course, the Dark Lord would swoop in and release them, but then he and Pans would be on the run. Voldemort wouldn't risk keeping them close to him. They'd be sent somewhere far. That wouldn't work.

Hitting Potter with a spell was too risky. Potter would retaliate, make a lot of noise as he did so, and get Draco in serious trouble—likely expulsion. That was out as well. He had to stay here and make sure Pans was protected. Blaise could be counted on, but he was too much of a risk-taker.

"Well?" Potter prompted.

"I'm thinking," Draco growled.

Rushing Potter and beating the shit out of him was thought worthy. Afterwards, he could use a simple memory spell. That was—out of the question. Too bad.

It looked like the only way to do all the things he had to do was tell Potter. Draco really, REALLY didn't want to, but it was the only choice.

"Fine, but you can't tell a soul," Draco said harshly. "I mean it, Potter. This is something that I do not want to get out and I'd everything in my power to keep it that way." He took a moment to steel himself.

"Pucey," he spat the name out, "raped her."

* * *

**It's done! skips around the room, bounces on the bed Yeah, it's been a while since I updated. I'm sorry. I think this chapter was a good one, don't you? :blows kisses:**

**Until next time! – TG **


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike…**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_It looked like the only way to do all the things he had to do was tell Potter. Draco really, REALLY didn't want to, but it was the only choice. _

"_Fine, but you can't tell a soul," Draco said harshly. "I mean it, Potter. This is something that I do not want to get out and I'd everything in my power to keep it that way." He took a moment to steel himself. _

"_Pucey," he spat the name out, "raped her."_

**Chapter Fourteen**

"What?" he rasped out. Harry stared at Malfoy's furious face. "He did _what_ to her?"

Malfoy sneered at him, "You heard me the first time, Potter. Don't make me repeat it."

Harry lowered his eyes to the ground at Malfoy's defensive tone. He felt shame and something like disgust aimed at himself for what he said about her.

"So that explains the change in her," he whispered. "I never would have thought something like that could happen. I just thought it was because she killed him."

"Like I said, I wished he died an infinite times more," Malfoy said harshly.

Harry looked up. He studied Malfoy like an insect. Was this really the hard ass Slytherin, the one who hated all things good?

Malfoy's eyes had a weary, tortured look in them; his face was upturned towards the heavens. It made him look purely angelic. Could it be that Malfoy actually had a heart?

"Killing someone is not going to make her better," Harry said finally.

Hard, glittering gray eyes locked onto his face. Harry resisted stepping back. The hate and rage he saw in Malfoy's eyes made him feel cold all the way to his bones.

"No, it won't," Malfoy agreed. "But it will make her feel better knowing that fucking bastard is not going to do that to someone else."

That made him remember what she had said earlier about helping Hermione out of that sticky situation.

"Will she be okay? I didn't mean to upset her, Malfoy. I just—"

"Oh, you did mean it. Tell me, how did it feel having that sort of power over a Slytherin?"

"Why won't you believe me?" Harry asked exasperated.

"For the same reason, you won't believe me. I don't trust you or your kind," Malfoy said scornfully. "You can't help her, Potter. I won't let you."

Harry picked up on Malfoy's protectiveness. "When did it happen? Before or after she moved in with you?"

"After," Malfoy supplied grudgingly. He looked away at one of the suits of armor lining the corridor.

It dawned on him then. The tortured look in Malfoy's eyes, the hostility of his answers…Harry said, "And you blame yourself."

Malfoy jerked. Harry backed away when he saw that Malfoy's hands were fisted. "Potter," he growled, "you just don't know when to shut up, do you?"

Harry frowned as Malfoy began to advance towards him.

* * *

Pansy dropped her book bag on the floor and fell back on her bed. She stared at the canopy, with no particular thought on her mind.

She sighed.

It has been three weeks since Potter made her inner core crack, since she ran to Draco for comfort and safety, since he came back to her with a split lip and a black eye. Oh, Merlin, she had gone running to him!

Groaning, Pansy rolled over and buried her face in the pillows. She screamed, trying to get her mind off that night. She tried to forget that afterwards, looking back on it, she wished he had kissed her.

It wasn't right. She shouldn't be looking at Draco like that. He was like an older brother to her. He was her rock, but that wasn't fair to Blaise. Blaise was also a strong person to lean on as well. They both would do anything to keep her safe, which pissed her off slightly. It was as if they thought of her as—how did Blaise put it?—delicate, as if she would break at the first sign of difficulty. All she wanted was for them to see as strong, able to take care of herself.

Pansy snorted. "Yeah, I sure showed them a few weeks ago."

She shook her head. No one said this was going to be easy. Too much had happened this summer for her to remain the same. Her life had gotten very complicated in a short span of time.

Draco had agreed to allow Granger to put her thoughts in his Pensieve. It had taken days of convincing, but he would allow it. Anything to catch this new player. Draco and Blaise wanted no surprises this year.

_Voldemort could attack this place at anytime_, she thought, looking around the room. It was almost scary that he would dare to.

Tap, tap.

She perked up and glanced at the window. A barn owl fluttered outside, a letter attached to its leg. Pansy rolled off the bed and hurried to the window. Opening it, the owl flew in and settled on her trunk at the foot of her bed. As soon as she untied the letter, the owl took to the air and flew out the window.

Shrugging, she unrolled it and read it. Pansy slumped to the floor in shock, her hand covering her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

Her fingers trembled as she read it again, more to prove that it was real than for the information.

_Pansy,  
__In two days, you are summoned by the Dark Lord for a meeting. Your escort will by your…guardian. Your new position in His services will be discussed. Refusal of attendance is not wise._

A position? In his services? Oh Merlin, please let it not be! Seeing him would bring back what she had done in his presence. All that she had worked to forget would come back. It would be for nothing. She couldn't go. There was no way she could do it. Absolutely no way.

She had to tell Draco. He was the one the letter spoke of. It had to be him.

Pansy rose from the bed and folded the letter up to place in her pocket. She went to the common room first to see if he was there. There was someone facing the fire in one of the armchairs and she circled wide to see their face. She halted when she saw it was Theo Nott. He turned to look, but once he saw it was her, he jerked back and tried to crush himself into the chair. She didn't like the look of fear on his face, so she turned away at once.

She tried his room, but Goyle answered. He stared stupidly at her and said Draco wasn't there, either. Where was he?

Pansy left the common room and went in search of him. She went to the kitchens, the Quidditch field, the classes he had that she knew of, and the library. He wasn't anywhere. She was starting to feel slightly panicky. Then she spotted Blaise talking to someone.

"Blaise!" Her call echoed down the corridor. He turned and straightened when he saw her. He looked at his companion, bidding her good-bye, before hurrying down to her.

"What is it?" he asked when he was close enough. She ran the rest of the way to him and he enveloped her in a warm hug. She hadn't noticed until now that she was cold, so very cold. "What's wrong?"

"I need to find Draco. I…I received a letter. I'm to…to meet _him_," she whispered, clinging to the front of his robes.

"What?" Blaise heard voices coming towards them and he pulled her into one of the classrooms. "What are you talking about? What letter?" Pansy shakily pulled the folded parchment from her pocket. Blaise swore when he noticed and pulled her into his arms again, ignoring the letter she held in her hand. She felt his hand stroking her hair lightly. "It's okay, Pans. It'll be okay."

"How?" she asked. "I'm being summoned to his side to take my place in his services. What does that mean? What's going to happen to me?"

"We'll figure it out once we find Draco. Last I saw him, he was heading to the pitch to squeeze in a few hours of practice before dinner." He held her gently as they went to the door. Pansy put the letter back in her pocket. "We'll find him there. I'm sure of it."

Blaise kept his arm around her the whole way there. They were drawing glances, but Pansy didn't care. She needed to see Draco. He'd know what to do regarding the letter. Pansy held onto Blaise to keep from stumbling. She knew he didn't mind. He was a good guy. He'd grow to be a good man.

_If he doesn't die in Voldemort's services, doing Merlin knows what for that bastard,_ she thought. Pansy held him tighter. She felt his gaze touch her face questioningly, but he looked away a second later.

The Quidditch pitch was quiet as they entered. No one was there, but there was the trunk holding the equipment. It was open. Pansy immediately searched the sky. Then she saw him. Sunlight danced on his blonde head. She saw a speck of gold hovering below him. Draco glanced around, but didn't see her or Blaise. Then when he looked down, the Snitch zoomed away. Draco charged after it, arm outstretched. His robes flapped and flared behind him. She didn't know how fast he was going, but it had to be very fast.

Pansy blinked and heard Blaise say, "He got it. He's really improved since last year. Slytherin might have a winning chance this year." Then he stepped forward and waved his arm. "Draco! Come here for a second!"

Draco whipped around and saw them. He flew toward them very fast and pulled up short, jumping down to the grass, breathing hard. "What is it?" His gaze went to her and concern showed in his pale eyes. "What's wrong? Blaise?"

Pansy couldn't help herself. She pushed past Blaise and flung herself against Draco's chest. He caught her instinctively and held her close. She heard Blaise explain about the letter. Draco asked gently to see it and she pulled it out. He took it and unfolded it, still holding her. He swore under his breath.

"Damn it. I didn't expect him to summon us so soon," Draco said. "I figured we'd have two, three months, at least."

"What does it mean?" Blaise asked.

"He must be moving his plans up. That has to be it. I advised him that Pansy would need time to cope with everything, but he never really listens, does he?" Draco chuckled mirthlessly. "So impatient these days."

"Well?" Blaise prompted. "What's the plan?"

Draco sighed. "We have to go. There's nothing we can do really. Not going will cast questions we really don't want Voldemort asking. Perhaps this is an opportunity to learn as much as we can and spin it our way."

Pansy pulled away. "I want him dead. I want Voldemort gone, Draco, but please don't make me go. It's too soon. I can't face him."

He stared at her solemnly. "It's the only way, Pans. I know how you feel, but believe me, this will go a lot faster if you go along with what I say. His death will come more quickly that way. Can I trust you to act within reason in his presence?"

She looked away, feeling confused. "I'm not going to lie. I'm scared right now. I don't want to do anything with him. I mean, look how easy I break? All this because of a fucking letter. And not to mention, three weeks ago, when Potter…How can I do this? I'm not strong enough, Draco."

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Don't ever say that! You're not weak, Pansy. Any other girl would've given up if she'd gone through what you did. You didn't." He slightly shook her, his voice loud. "I don't ever want to hear you say anything like that again in my presence. Understand?"

Blaise shouted indignantly, "Draco!"

Pansy slumped in his hands, head bowed low. "I'm sorry, Draco. Forgive me."

Draco embraced her once more. "No, forgive _me._ I lost control of myself. I just…don't call yourself weak. You're not. You're probably the strongest person I know."

"See, Pans? Didn't I say Draco would take care of it?" Blaise asked. She turned to look at him and gave him a smile. He smiled warmly back at her. "You'll be fine."

"I'll take care of everything. Don't worry, Pans." Draco rubbed her back before setting her aside. "Hey, you want a go on my broomstick?"

Shoving Voldemort out of her mind, she changed mental tracks, feeling the need to lighten her mood. "Is that how you talk to all the girls, Draco?"

He froze for a second before pink tinged his cheeks, looking entirely scandalized. Then he smirked charmingly, accepting her direction. "No, Pansy dear, only with you." She laughed when he held his broomstick out for her in a suggestive way. He said, "I'm waiting, Pans."

"Come on, you guys," Blaise groaned. "No sex jokes, please."

Pansy looked at him over her shoulder, taking Draco's broomstick. "Are you feeling left out, Blaise? Don't worry, there's room for you, too."

Blaise's jaw dropped at her provocative tone. Draco followed suit immediately. Before either of them could say anything, she mounted the broomstick and pushed off into the air. Wind clawed at her hair and clothing, stripping away her dark thoughts and leaving only the pleasure of flying. In a spurt of speed, she did a fast barrel roll to the left, whooping as she did so.

She heard her name faintly called and she looked back at Draco and Blaise. Draco waved his arm at her, signaling her to come back. Sighing, Pansy did as he wished. Now that the whole drama of the letter was played out, she realized she was hungry. If the time was what she thought it was, then dinner would be starting in a ten or so minutes. She dropped to the grass and dismounted.

"Have fun?" Blaise asked.

She shrugged. "Got my mind off of things."

Draco took back his broom while Blaise grabbed the trunk of Quidditch equipment. They stopped by the storage shed to put the trunk back and continued on into the castle. Draco told them both to go on to the Great Hall while he went to his room to put his broom away.

Pansy rather thought he went back to write a quick letter to Voldemort. She put that out of her mind. If she didn't think about it, then she wouldn't be worrying about it. It was safer that way.

Blaise kept shooting smirks at her throughout the whole of dinner, even when Draco came into the Great Hall. He didn't seem to see the narrow-eyed looks Draco shot at _him._

It was good though. It made her laugh. Blaise always seemed to make her laugh. He was the comic of their little group and secondhand man. Draco was the leader. They were both strong in their different ways. They were there for her. She could count on them. They were her family now.

* * *

The days flew by astoundingly. She went to class, did her homework, went flying in her spare time, joked with Blaise, and talked with Draco.

It was after dinner when they left. Thankfully, Draco didn't have to patrol that evening and neither did she. They made their way off school grounds and she wiped her sweaty palms on her robes when they were about to apparate. Draco had coached her on what to do and what not to do, but basically, it was follow his lead.

They appeared in front of a rundown mansion in the middle of the country. There were no houses in sight. Of course, it was dark, but there should have been lights if there were houses.

Draco turned to her. "How you doing?"

She let out a huge breath and jerked her head up and down. "I'm okay. Let's just do this so we can get out of here."

"It'll be fine, Pans." And before she knew, he leaned forward and kissed her gently. He drew back and added, "Promise."

Pansy could only stare at him blankly in shock. _Now_ he kissed her? When they were about to face the demon of her nightmares? That was just great.

He led the way up the drive and to the door. He tapped the doorknocker twice. When it opened, a mountain of a man looked down at them. She barely stopped herself from shrinking back when he slowly looked her over with his black eyes.

Draco stepped in front of her. "We're here to see him."

The mountain turned his black gaze from her body to Draco. A hint of amusement suffused his tone. "Very well, Malfoy. He's in the upper study."

Draco nodded and opened the door wider. He stepped in the doorway and allowed Pansy to pass while he blocked the mountain's visual line of her. Then he followed her. Evidently, Draco didn't trust that man, which was okay by her. She didn't like his eyes. They were flat and cold. No emotion in them. She forced back a shiver.

Draco's hand at the small of her back lent her strength as they climbed a sprawling staircase. It kept her from running away. It reminded her that she was not alone in this tonight.

They turned down the hallway and Draco stopped before the second door on the left. A spurt of fear went through her and she put a hand on his wrist as he moved to turn the doorknob. He stopped and glanced down at her, concern lit his eyes.

_Do it, Pansy, before you get cold feet. Do it when you still have a chance. Do it before you might make the mistake of making the Dark Lord angry and kill you._

The words spilled into the forefront of her mind like a flood. Pansy watched with a sort of detached passion as she put her hand around his neck and drew him down. He obeyed the light pressures of her hand warily. She stretched up and kissed him.

She felt him freeze, felt his muscles lock tight in shock. Pansy pressed herself against him and wrapped her other hand about his neck. Time stretched uncomfortably until she felt his arms close around her and crush her against him. His mouth firmed against hers and moved under their own volition.

Her fingers speared into the curling ends of his hair and she clutched at him. His lips were devilish and his tongue was wicked. They made her feel things she had only sampled a bit. Together, they feasted on something that could consume them both if they let it.

A throat cleared, conspicuous in its amusement. It pierced the hazy fog of Pansy's mind and slowly she came back down to earth, Draco at her side. Ending the kiss, he drew back and put her behind him as they faced the now open door.

A cold voice that scraped along her nerves like a knife said, "That was quite a performance, Draco. I enjoyed that immensely and must say that this falls in completely with my plans."

A feeling of dread came over Pansy as Draco grasped her wrist and led her into the study. She kept her head bowed as Draco instructed.

"I am pleased you are pleased," Draco said lightly, though Pansy thought she heard the bite of steel in his voice. "As you requested, we are here at your service, my lord."

"Yes, yes," the Dark Lord said. "Ah, Miss Parkinson, you appear to be in good health. Of course, I highly doubt young Draco here would allow you to be otherwise. Now, as your letter has told you, you are here to be informed of your position in my services. As I have told you before, Parkinson, you are very important to me. What you are, what you will become…you are very powerful and with my help, you will become even more so."

With a miniscule nudge from Draco, she murmured, "Thank you, my lord."

"Well, not necessarily with _my_ help. It is with Draco here who will help to ensure you of power. Yes, your little kiss has soothed any misgivings I might have had." He picked up a bottle of red liquid and studied it. "I have no need of this love potion. You do not look upon Draco badly. That will smooth the way."

What is he talking about? He had a love potion ready for what? That sense of dread magnified tenfold.

Draco stiffened slightly beside her. He wasn't touching her in any way, but she felt him go rigid. Pansy kept her eyes to the ground, ignoring the impulse to look at Draco.

"My lord, what are you talking about?" Draco asked carefully. "What would you need a love potion for in the first place?"

"Well, you see, Draco," Voldemort began, "Parkinson possesses an enormous amount of power within her, but the only way to tap into that power is if she were to undergo a long series of consistent changes…if she were to become pregnant, so to speak. The changes of her body during the pregnancy will help the transition of her powers."

She felt sick to her stomach. Pansy couldn't believe what she was hearing! She would rather die than become pregnant to satisfy one man's plans. She couldn't do it.

Draco shifted, moved slightly in front of her. "And just who did you have in mind to impregnate her?"

"She would have to become intimate with a powerful wizard, for one thing. You understand that I couldn't just throw her in a room with just anyone. I chose you."

Just when she thought she couldn't be surprised any more, here was something to prove her wrong. He chose Draco to get her pregnant? Of course, there is nothing wrong with Draco and she might have entertained a thought or two of actually sleeping with him, but to do it on someone's orders? It was wrong and just plain cold. Why did it have to be her? There had to be another way out of this mess.

"Me?" Draco's voice sounded distant. "Surely there's another way for her to access her powers than this plan, my Lord. You can't seriously be entertaining the thought that we would—"

"Hold your tongue, Draco!" Voldemort hissed. "You are no longer amusing me. I have decided. You and Parkinson will join together to ensure my plan. It is done. Now go."

_Fight harder, Draco! Please,_ she pleaded silently. _Merlin please let this be a dream!_

He made one more attempt at arguing before the Dark Lord barked at him to be gone and start on the preparations. Seething with rage, Draco said between clenched teeth, "Yes, my _lord_. As you wish."

He gently took her by the arm and Pansy glanced briefly up at him. His pale face was set in a mask of indifference and his eyes were ice cold. That he was handling her so carefully only meant that he was really, _really_ pissed off. She expected something to come from him, alluding to his emotional state, but there was nothing so obvious. His control was always astounding to see.

They reached the door and Draco opened it. Pansy stepped through it first and Draco began to follow, but Voldemort called out. Stopping, Draco looked over his shoulder, back into the room. In a dark voice, Voldemort threatened, "You have one month to get her pregnant. If it isn't, Draco, I will choose someone else to get the job done."

Draco nodded once and closed the door fully. He didn't speak once. They apparated back to Hogwarts and returned to the school in silence. Just before they went inside the castle walls, Pansy stopped. Draco stopped when he noticed she wasn't with him. He looked back at her with impatience, but didn't say anything. She wanted him to say something first.

He stared at her, but kept his mouth shut. When she realized he wasn't going to say anything at all, something broke inside her and she whirled away. Pansy ran instinctively for the lake. The trees surrounding it were thick and immense. She could run and hide there. No one would be able to find her.

She pelted down the trail, lungs on fire, but she didn't care. She had to get away from him, from everything. Draco had no choice. He was bound to the Dark Lord and had to do what he said. But why didn't he say anything?

Finally reaching the water's edge, Pansy ran alongside it towards the forest. Hearing something like thunder, she glanced over her shoulder and she started in surprise. Pansy ran faster.

Draco was right behind her. He ran fast and easy, his face flushed by the sudden pumping of blood in his body. She saw his eyes glint dangerously in the moonlight. Plus, his legs were longer. He'd catch her eventually.

She veered off into the forest, hoping to lose him among the trees. She weaved left and right, but he stayed on her tail. Just as she burst through a clearing, she felt him snake a hand around her arm and swing her around. With a yelp, she fell, but he followed her still and managed to land first with her cushioned against his chest.

Quickly, he rolled over, pinning her effectively. Pansy struggled against him and tried to buck him off. He moved his legs, one knee sliding between her legs. She froze and her breathing seized. A fine trembling broke throughout her body as she remembered. Pansy had to remind herself that it wasn't Pucey on top of her. It was Draco.

_It was Draco. It was Draco. It was Draco_…she repeated it in her head, but her body couldn't tell the difference. He cursed savagely and moved off her instantly. Pansy curled into a ball and muttered under her breath that it was Draco, not him.

Warm hands curved around her shoulders, startling her, but the hands were familiar. She forced herself to breathe calmly as he sat her up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair. "I never thought it would happen like this."

"You promised, Draco," she said quietly. Her throat began to close up with the effort of holding back her screams. Pansy held herself rigid and breathed in quickly. She blinked rapidly to keep from tearing up. "You promised it would be fine."

"And I'm sorry, Pansy! Merlin, what the fuck did you want me to do?" he demanded roughly. "Say no and let him choose someone else? At least with me, you'll be treated gently."

She let out the breath she was holding in a huff. Pansy couldn't quite grasp what he was saying. Everything was one loud roar. She pulled away from his arms and stood quickly. "You," her voice cracked, "you're still going to do what he said? After all that I've been through, you are going to im-impre-you know!"

"What choice do we have? Let him kill you?" Draco growled getting to his feet. He towered over her. The moon's light cast half his face in shadow, leaving him wreathed in mystery. "Because _that's_ what he would have done! He would have killed you rather than see you join anyone but him. If he was in a great mood, he would have tortured me for bringing such a rebellious girl and you—he'd give you to someone else and your life would be nothing but pain and despair as a new life developed within you. Is that what you wanted?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" she yelled at him. Pansy whirled around to face the starlit sky and spread her arms wide. "WHAT THE HELL DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? HUH? IS THIS PUNISHMENT FOR ALL THE SHIT THAT I DID? IT'S NOT FAIR AND YOU FUCKING KNOW IT!" Pansy scanned the heavens for any sort of sign that she was heard. "TAKE ME! GIVE THEM BACK TO ME AND I'LL GO IN THEIR PLACES!" Her arms dropped and she sank to her knees. Pansy couldn't hold back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. Before she succumbed to the despair inside, she whispered, "Just bring them back…please?"

She sprawled forward and covered her head as she cried. Was there no one out there? Was there no benevolent being watching out for her? Evidence pointed to no. All hope that she had was draining out of her in one gushing flood of tears.

"Pansy."

It wasn't fair! What had she done? What had any of them done to deserve their positions in life? Humanity was a joke.

"Pansy."

She had once read a muggle book called the Bible. Someone had dropped it, a blood traitor most likely, and she had taken it. Pansy had read it secretly in her room. She loved the idea of angels watching over people.

"Pansy."

An angel wouldn't have allowed this to ever happen to her. He'd be watchful and kind and warm…who was she kidding? Angels didn't exist. They never did.

"Pansy." A hand touched her.

She rose up and looked over her shoulder. Angels didn't…

A shining bright light washed over him from behind. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his powerful stare. He would be beautiful she knew. Angels were always beautiful. Where were his wings?

"Beautiful," she whispered. "My angel."

He moved closer and the bright light disappeared. "Pansy, are you okay?"

She shook her head as she took in Draco's bewildered look. Her disappointment was palpable thing in her heart. "I'm okay now."

"What were you saying about angels?"

Pansy looked behind him and saw the moon. She swallowed thickly. "Nothing."

"We'll find a way out of this, Pans. I know we will."

"What, no promises?" she said snidely.

His face hardened into one of his indifferent masks. His gray eyes were full of fury and hurt. She knew it was hurtful to say such a thing, but she couldn't help it.

"I wouldn't want to disappoint you again, Parkinson," he sneered. "Get up. We're going back to the castle."

"No." She crossed her arms over her chest. Pansy watched with mean amusement as his left eye twitched and his jaw clench and unclench.

Draco tilted his head to the side, gazing at her. "Don't push me, Parkinson. I'm warning you. After all the shit we had to hear tonight, I do not want to do this now."

"Oh, so you don't want to see if you can get me with child in one session, huh? Wouldn't want to mess up your bed schedule with your other whores, would I?" she said. "Now that I'm about to become one of them."

His hand fisted at his side. "Do not ever say that again, Parkinson. You are not a whore, no matter what you think, and you can never be one."

Pansy took it like an insult. "What, I'm not enough of a slut for you? Well, that's about to change, isn't it? I mean you do have one month."

"Why don't you say whatever it is that is going through your demented mind, Parkinson? This will be a lot easier if you just say it."

She opened her mouth to ask why, but she couldn't get the words out. Staring at him, she felt nothing but anger. He was supposed to look out for her. He was supposed to protect her. Why hadn't he done any of it? Why did he let it happen?

"You knew, damn it. You knew what he was planning all along and you just let me fall right into his plans, you bastard!" With a cry, she flew at him, hands stretched out in claws.

He leaned back in time to miss the swipe of her nails. Cursing, he grabbed her wrists. "Stop this at once!"

"Never!" she hissed at him. Pansy tried to twist her hands away, but when that didn't work, she kicked at him, tried to knee him…

_Fight him,_ a voice whispered. _He doesn't care about you. Fight him like you couldn't fight Pucey._

She got him good on his right thigh and was rewarded with a grunt of pain. Pansy drew back her leg again, but the world turned upside down on her and the breath in her lungs flew out of her body as she hit the ground.

Draco covered her completely. He simply overpowered her with his heavy body. Pansy twisted violently under him, but he just lay there on top of her, holding her wrists. He stared calmly at her from inside his indifferent mask. His eyes were dark and guarded. She spat on him. Her saliva clung to his cheek just below his left eye. It drizzled back down on her.

"Don't just lay there, you fucker! Do something!" she yelled at him. "Anything! Does anything ever touch you, you fucking, indifferent, cold-hearted, selfish, bastard!" Pansy called him all the names she could think of, but his mask did not shift for a split second. Finally, her voice hoarse after shouting so much, she said, "I hate you."

He blinked. Shock shone in his eyes, followed quickly by hurt and anger. He drew his lips back in a snarl. "You don't mean that."

"Then why didn't you fight for me?" The words burst free.

Draco stopped, his face blank. Then anger flitted across his pale face. "Do you _want_ to die, Parkinson?"

"Better death than being some man's whore of power!" she spat.

He was right there and the next, he was gone. Pansy stared up at the stars before rising to sit. He had moved some distance away from her. His hands were fisted so tight that she wouldn't have been shocked to see blood seeping through his fingers.

"You're no better than he is," she said.

He whirled around. "Don't you DARE compare me to him! I actually give a shit about you! It would kill me if you had to do this with anyone else."

"Why? You don't love me! You never did! You've never loved anyone besides yourself, you selfish asshole! You don't care what happens to me or to Blaise!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Do us all a favor and just go away! Better yet, go away and die! I hate you, Draco Malfoy!"

"Don't make me forget you're a female, Parkinson!" he warned.

"You want to hit me? Go ahead! See what I care! Hit me!" Pansy walked up to him. "Do it! For once in your life, just do—"

He jerked her against him and kissed her brutally. His mouth slanted against hers roughly. He slid his arm around her waist and held her to him while his other cradled her neck. Slowly, he walked her backwards until she came up against a tree.

Pansy panicked. She hit his shoulders, but he did not stop his assault. She could feel his anger and frustration thrumming through his body and transfer in his kiss. He nipped her bottom lip suddenly and she parted her lips in surprise. He surged in and took, conquered. He touched the dark recesses of her mouth and rubbed against her tongue.

The kiss lost its anger and drifted into another dimension of desire. He tempted her with long, drawn out kisses that went through her like lightning.

Her hands, which had been clutching his shoulders, went to his neck as she pressed against him fully. Incensed to find that she was being drawn into the kiss, she avenged herself by kissing back aggressively and feeling his shock. A wicked idea came to her and she smiled inwardly. Pansy rubbed against him sinuously, pushing his robes off. He let her.

Her hand moved to run across the hard planes of his back, then the flat, toned abdomen. The rich silk of his shirt was a delicious barrier. He leaned against her touch as she rubbed his stomach. Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt and she swiftly undid them. Draco shed his shirt instantly.

Pansy spread her hands wide on his bare chest, felt his heart beating rapidly beneath her palms. He started to pull at her robes, but she murmured a no against his lips. He left her clothes alone.

Her hands went to his belt and he moved. She sensed him toeing off his shoes. Pansy undid his pants and he helped her shove them down over his hips. He kicked out of them. Something brushed against her front as he pressed against her.

She drew back from the kiss and looked into his face. Desire had hardened his face. His gray eyes were smoky and dark. Pansy slid her hand over his cheek and smiled at him.

He didn't smile, not because he didn't want to she knew, but because he couldn't. His eyes softened as he gazed down at her.

He leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head up…

But, alas, their lips never met.

Pansy shoved him away and he fell on his naked ass. She adverted her face as she stooped down to pick up his pants and shirt. While he worked out what had just happened, she also snatched his robes and ran.

She tossed his wand over her shoulder and called, "Let that be a lesson to you, Draco! I'll never submit to you or any man!"

"PARKINSON!" he roared.

As she dashed through the trees, she flung his boxers into the trees. The rest of his clothes, she carried with her into the castle.

She would never submit to him. She meant what she said. She'd die first.

* * *

**I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! I know you loyal readers missed me! I have to say that I am really sorry that I made you wait this long for a freaking update! Thank you for being so bloody patient with me. **

**Okay, so I hope you're happy with the new direction the story is taking. I have some good plot fodder waiting to be transferred onto paper, but I have to ask that you be patient once more. I just got back to school and while I have the 'Net in my room, I won't have as much time to write as I did last year. I'm taking like 17 credit hours and I already have homework. I will write when I'm bored in class, but I won't abandon the story. I just have to finish it. I'm just as curious as you are.**

**Now, don't forget to leave me a line. I totally appreciate it if you do. Do your homework in the dark. Eat your cereal with a fork. **

– **TG**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike?**

**Author's Note:**** Thank ClumsyTonks for this update.**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_Pansy shoved him away and he fell on his naked ass. She adverted her face as she stooped down to pick up his pants and shirt. While he worked out what had just happened, she also snatched his robes and ran._

_She tossed his wand over her shoulder and called, "Let that be a lesson to you, Draco! I'll never submit to you or any man!"_

"_PARKINSON!" he roared._

_As she dashed through the trees, she flung his boxers into the trees. The rest of his clothes, she carried with her into the castle._

_She would never submit to him. She meant what she said. She'd die first._

**Chapter Fifteen**

Pansy didn't stop running until she reached the relative safety of her room. The other girls didn't so much wake as snort in their sleep and roll over.

The clock on the mantel showed 1:17 am.

Clutching Draco's clothes to her chest, she went over to her trunk and kicked it open. Pansy dumped the pile in the trunk and pulled out her pajamas. She quickly went to the bathroom and washed up for bed.

She changed into her pajamas and went back into the bedroom. Putting her clothes in her trunk as well, Pansy pulled back the covers to her four-poster bed and climbed in. Taking one last look around the bedroom, she fell back against the pillows and let sleep take her, knowing she would need her strength for the coming day and Draco's rage.

Daylight came all too soon. Pansy wrenched a pillow over her head as the other girls began waking. It was Friday, the last day of the week with classes. She just had to make it through this day and then she would be able to disappear for the weekend. Groaning, she tried to sleep for a few more minutes, but realized it was useless to do so any longer.

She took a quick shower and dressed. Pansy walked out of her room cautiously as she did a quick scan for Draco in the common room. When she didn't see him, she felt the knot of tension in her chest loosen. Heaving a sigh of relief as she exited the Slytherin dormitories, she started for the Great Hall.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Pansy jumped when cool fingers slid around her wrist and jerked her back. Swallowing a scream, she fetched up hard against a male chest. Looking up, she met laughing blue eyes.

Cursing, she shoved Blaise away. "You asshole!"

Laughing, Blaise hugged himself as he leaned against the wall. "I got you so bad. You thought I was Draco, didn't you, Pans?"

"So what if I did?" she hissed. Then she stopped. Blaise could be useful in avoiding Draco. Losing the death glare, she asked, "Where is he?"

"He's probably still asleep," Blaise said, coming off the wall. He slung an arm about her shoulders as they started walking. "When did you guys get back? Because Draco came in around five this morning."

Pansy couldn't help the giggle from escaping. "He was out there this whole time?"

"What did you do to him? He came stomping in with a thundercloud over his face in only his boxers." Blaise squeezed her. "Did you two have hot sex in the Forest?"

She slapped his chest. "Blaise! No, we didn't have hot sex." Then she remembered what Draco was supposed to do with her. Pansy shivered. "We might as well have, though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, blue eyes sharpening.

Horrified to feel her eyes fill with tears, she shook her head fiercely.

They came out by the Great Hall and Blaise stopped. He turned her to face him and tipped her face up. "What aren't you telling me, Pansy? What happened?"

"It's so bad, Blaise," she whispered. Pansy fought to keep her voice even and not break like she wanted.

He frowned, searching her face for something. He gave her an easy smile. "Come on, Pans. We're not going to class today."

"Wait, what?" she asked. Pansy looked at Blaise with a confused look on her face. She didn't want to look confused because he would use it to his advantage, but she couldn't help it. She could feel her brows lift and scrunch together and her lips compress.

"We're taking a holiday, Pansy," Blaise proclaimed easily. "It's just for today, so don't worry about anything."

"But don't we have an essay due in Transfigurations?" she asked worriedly. Pansy didn't like McGonagall, but she respected the professor's authority very much so.

"Bah! The hell with that, Pans," he said, steering her through the corridors and out of the castle. "You're with me!"

"That's exactly why I'm worried," she muttered as they started on the path going to and around the lake.

He heard her. "Your lack of faith in me wounds me, Pans. Really it does! I'm hurt."

She shoved him away. "You're such a drama queen, Blaise."

"It's _king_," he said stuffily, turning his nose up. "Get that right."

"Oh, excuse me, your dramatic highness," she said, biting her lip so she wouldn't laugh at him. She could see his shoulders begin to quake and his lips quiver. It wouldn't be long…

Blaise burst out laughing. He clutched his middle as he sank to his knees. "Oh, Merlin!" he gasped. "Drama…king…"

Pansy rolled her eyes at his idiotic fascination with the label. It really wasn't that funny, but seeing him on the ground made her giggle. Blaise was the only one in Slytherin who would roll about the ground without a care for his reputation or dignity. He had never cared much for the outward mask of Slytherin. He had gotten into trouble more times than she could count with Severus Snape for acting like a common Gryffindor.

The others in her House put a lot of weight on their reputations and looks and money. It was stupid. Slytherin could be like Gryffindor or Ravenclaw if they wanted, but that was not the way they were raised. Even Weasley, had he their connections and money, would turn out like Draco or any of the others.

_Draco…no! Don't think of him,_ she scolded herself inwardly. Pansy didn't want to think of him or what they had to do. She just wanted to enjoy this day with Blaise.

"Blaise, darling, you'll get us caught," she said. "Shut up."

He smirked. "Yes, ma'am."

Slinging an arm around her, they continued on down the path. It was peaceful. The lake was calm and the sky was filled with fluffy white clouds. It was cold, yes, but it was…refreshing, cleansing almost. The Forest was near quiet. One could still hear the few birds calling to one another amongst other things.

"Let's play hide-and-seek," Blaise suddenly suggested. He grinned widely. "I haven't played that in ages!"

"That's because, Blaise dear, you are seventeen years old," Pansy said in an adult sort of voice. "You are much too old to be playing that game."

"What about the game where I'm in my boxers and a girl's blindfolded and handcuffed to a bed—"

Pansy clapped her hands over her ears. "Stop! I don't want to hear any of your perverted fantasies. I still want to keep _something_ virginal at least."

That killed the playful mood Blaise had. A somber look stole across his face and settle there. No roguish grin or twinkling blue eyes on his handsome face. Pansy immediately felt sorry for bringing him down to earth in such a manner. It wasn't his fault what happened to her, yet he blamed himself. Just like Draco blamed himself.

"Pans, I—"

She put a finger on his lips. "Hush, Blaise. I don't want to hear the what-if's or if-only's. What's done is done. We just have to go forward while we pick up the pieces."

A look of…hurt and desperation filled his eyes and Blaise suddenly pulled her against him. Pansy wrapped her arms around his waist as he held her tight. His body trembled slightly. She could barely feel it. Wanting to comfort him, she gently stroked his back.

Pansy could feel his muscles slowly relax and lose the tight tension. She hadn't paid him much attention for the past few days. What could make him so tense?

It was like a rule that he never became tense or strung out.

"What is it, Blaise?" she whispered.

"Nothing," he replied. "This day's about you, remember?"

There was nothing on his face or in his voice for her to go on. He was just as capable as Draco to mask his emotions through coldness. Usually, he preferred playing the happy-go-lucky, charming womanizer to the mysterious iceberg façade that Draco always used.

"Blaise, something's wrong. I can tell."

He sighed heavily as he looked upwards. "I knew I shouldn't have given you that empathic potion booster for Christmas. I should have gone with the green negligee.

Scoffing, Pansy pushed away and punched him in the chest. "Negligee, indeed!"

He waggled his brows at her suggestively until she laughed. Grinning, he said, "There's my girl. Now come on. Hide-and-seek, remember?"

She shook her head in exasperation before nodding.

An hour or so later, Pansy called it quits. Hide-and-seek was hard when there were only two people, especially when one of those two people was really, _really_ good at hiding.

"Blaise! I give up!" Pansy shouted as she sat down on a small grassy knoll that faced only the lake and not the castle. "I'm not playing anymore!"

A voice at her elbow said, "You're no fun, Pans."

She screamed in fright. Blaise sat up, pushing the pile of branches she had taken to be nothing off of his body. He dusted leaves and small twigs off his robes. Pansy saw that he didn't brush the leaves out of his hair.

"Come here," she said, waving him close. "You've got something in your hair."

He laid down, and propped himself on his elbows as he leaned towards her docilely. She ran her fingers through his soft raven hair. "So soft, Blaise. It's not fair you're a guy."

Blaise gazed at her steadily as she concentrated on taking every last bit of debris out of his hair. Pansy became aware of it and started to get uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. Out the corner of her eye, Pansy saw him glance at her breasts and tilt his head before going back to her face.

"Can you not stare, Zabini?" she asked.

"Why? Is it making you nervous?" he asked calmly.

"Yes, it is. Now stop before I hex you," she warned seriously. She held her arms closer to her body.

He smirked and turned to look upon the clouds. "So serious, Pansy. You need to relax more often."

Before she thought better of it, she said, "And I suppose you would like to be the one to _relax_ me, Blaise?" Her face burned as she realized what she said. "I, uh, meant—"

"I believe that's Draco's job for now, sweetheart," Blaise said firmly. He sighed deeply. "If I could…well, let's just leave that alone, shall we?"

Pansy looked at him. What did he mean? Did he…look at her _that_ way? "Blaise?"

"Hmm?" He kept his eyes on the sky.

"I know you said leave that alone, but what do you mean if you could?"

"Pansy, some things are just better left untouched. Trust me."

"Don't do this to me, Blaise," she said. "Don't shut me out as well."

Blaise looked at her suddenly. His face had a guilty expression on it. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, but it's for your own good. Draco's a good man, despite his allegiances. He'll take care of you, protect you, no matter what happens."

"But can he protect me from himself?" Pansy asked softly. She turned towards him. "Did he tell you what I'm to do? What he's supposed to do?"

Blaise swallowed and looked away. He nodded. "Yeah. This morning after he calmed down a bit. He's furious at this turn of events. He hates being forced to act. Voldemort knows that and yet, he's ordered this of him…and of you."

"I don't want to do it, Blaise. What will happen if Draco doesn't—if I'm not…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish.

"He'll torture Draco first off for not getting the job done, possibly even kill him despite him being the most loyal of all. He'd probably torture you as well. This is very important," Blaise said. "You are very important to his plans. I don't know what he means to do with you, Pans, once you've become with child."

"I know, Blaise!" she shouted. "He'll probably do things to me to make me stronger, to harness this-this power inside me. He could bind me to him and there's nothing you or Draco can do about it. Voldemort will do as he pleases."

Blaise stood abruptly. He began to pace. "What do you want us to do, Pansy? Our hands are fucking tied!"

"He could have fought for me! Instead he took it in and said okay, okay he'd fuck me until I got pregnant, Blaise," Pansy yelled. "I can't have a child. I won't. I refuse to bring an innocent into this. I will not let him have it."

"It doesn't matter what you want, Pansy," Blaise said, looking down at her. His brilliant blue eyes bore into her. They were so clear, so serious. "It will happen, if not with Draco, then with someone else. Draco will be good to you. He'll treat you right. I can't say the same if Voldemort picks another."

"What if he chooses you?"

His eyes widened fractionally. "He won't…if Draco fails."

Pansy got up. She couldn't believe what she was about to do, but if she stopped to think, she would chicken out. Stepping close to him, she laid a hand on his cheek as she turned her head up to him. "Blaise—"

A crunch of gravel alerted them to someone coming up the trail from further down the lakeside.

Whoever it was, they were incredibly light in step. One thing for sure, it was not that oaf Hagrid.

Blaise grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the trees. They hid behind a tree trunk with Blaise peeking out. He held her to his chest, protecting her. Pansy wanted to snort at his actions. Honestly, she could take care of herself.

She whispered, "You see who it is yet?"

"No." The footsteps stopped just then. Blaise cursed. "Damn, he's on the left side of the trail. I can see his body, but the branches are blocking his face."

"Robes?" Blaise didn't answer. Pansy elbowed him. She hissed, "Blaise."

His face took on a stricken look. An awful feeling seemed to spread through her body and she felt ice cold.

Blaise whispered, "It can't be."

He let go of her and Pansy looked from him to the trail. Suddenly, Blaise pushed past her in a rush to get to whoever it was.

"What is it?" she shouted, following him.

"It's Milli!"

* * *

Draco knew Pansy was with Blaise when they didn't show for class. He gave the professors the excuse that they were taking care of prefect duties. He didn't really care if the staff bought it or not.

The important thing was that she was safe.

For now.

Pansy had to get over the shock of last night's news, and he decided to give her a brief reprieve for what she had done when they returned to the school.

Embarrassment still ran through him hours later and that just embarrassed him more. He was lucky only Blaise knew of his humiliation.

Draco paused his train of thought at this.

Hmm, perhaps not so lucky after all. No doubt Zabini would use this for blackmail if the opportunity arose.

He took notes automatically, hardly paying attention to the professor. There were too many concerns in his mind to warrant schoolwork with any significant brainwave activity.

Last night had not gone as planned given that Pansy's position was not in the least secured.

Secondly, he learned his position wasn't any better despite his standing in the Death Eater ranks.

Thirdly, Pansy was not the sort of girl to roll over and give up. She would fight to the bitter end.

Fourthly, because of said girl's determination, the assignment Voldemort had given them desperately needed time to be completed.

Lastly, time was something he did not have. Draco had a month to get Pansy—a girl he had given his protection to, a girl he had ultimately failed to protect, a girl he swore he would never hurt—pregnant with his child, only it wouldn't be his child. From the moment of its conception, it would be Voldemort's and Pansy would also be his.

Draco would give it his all and he would receive nothing worth having.

"Story of my life," he muttered darkly.

Granger, who shared the table with him, glanced sharply at him but did not say anything.

Minutes later, classes let out and he was done for the day. Draco led Granger by several steps as they walked to their dormitory. He would not ever walk beside her. It was bad enough he had to work with her and live with her.

Oh damn. He also had to work with her to catch that marauding maniac who attacked her—in his spare time no less!

Running footsteps echoed off the walls. Draco turned, eager to take points off.

Blaise was running at full steam. "Draco!"

Something was wrong. Blaise's face was tight with worry. Frowning, Draco felt his stomach clench. He rushed past Granger. "What happened? Is it Pansy?"

Blaise stumbled as he slowed down and Draco reached out to steady him. He gasped, trying to catch his breath. "No, Pansy…is okay. It's Milli."

Draco frowned. "Bulstrode?" He pulled Blaise upright and supported his weight. "What happened? Where is she?"

"Infirmary. Pans sent me…to find you," Blaise said. "She said you would want to know about this."

_She knows me so well_, Draco thought.

"Let's go," he said to Blaise. "What's Bulstrode's condition?"

Blaise shook his head. "I don't know. Pans and me were down by the lake talking and she comes staggering up the forest trail. She passed out as we were bringing her up to the castle." He sighed. "She looks pretty bad."

The walk to the hospital was silent and short. Draco pushed the doors open and strode in. Blaise managed to catch his breath by that time and walked beside him to the last bed at the end of the room. Professor Snape stood at the end of the bed watching Madame Pomfrey attend to the figure in the bed. Pansy was to the side, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Professor Snape was the first to notice them. His lips thinned slightly as he moved to head them off. "Draco, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

Pansy looked up at his name, but Draco didn't spare her a glance. His attention was entirely devoted to circumventing Snape's aggression. "Sir, you know as well as I that my classes for the day have ended."

"Be that as it may, this does not concern you."

Draco clenched his jaw and relaxed it. "Yes, it does. Millicent Bulstrode is a friend of Pansy. Besides, that I am a Slytherin. I deserve to know what has happened to any member of our House." Meeting Pansy's gaze, he added, "Oh, and I'm Head Boy, too."

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly. Draco withstood his godfather's scrutiny calmly. Sneering, Snape said, "Very well. You may stay, but only if you will keep me posted on Miss Bulstrode's condition."

He nodded once. Snape swept past him and left the hospital. Seconds later, Pansy was in his arms. Her thin frame shuddered and a quiet sob escaped her. Draco rubbed her back soothingly.

Blaise cast them a quick glance before moving to Bulstrode's side to give them a little privacy. Draco steered her away to an empty bed across the room. He sat her down. "What happened?"

Tears ran down her pale face. Her hair was sticking out and she either didn't know or didn't care. Her voice wavered as she said, "Me and Blaise were talking and we heard something come up the trail by the lake, the one going into the forest. We hid because we should have been in class. Then Blaise looked and said it was Milli." She buried her face in her hands. Her next words were muffled. "Her face was so beaten and bruised that I almost didn't recognize her. I don't know how Blaise did it. She was limping, nearly crawling. It was horrible!" She moved her hands to look at him. "We helped her up the trail. She was clutching her stomach so tightly. Then she just fainted. Blaise carried her here and Pomfrey started to run tests."

Pansy began to shiver, even with her thick robes on. Draco stood and took off his own. He draped them over her shoulders and pulled her against him. She could be in shock. "What about her injuries?"

"Fractured wrist, broken arm, broken ribs, dislocated shoulder," she said. Her breath skated over the base of his neck. "Multiple bruises, scrapes and cuts, and there was some internal bleeding. Pomfrey healed that immediately."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Merlin, how did she even make it here?"

"I don't know."

Draco hugged her tightly. That could have happened to anyone. It could have been Pans—he cut off that thought. There was no point wondering. He had to deal with the facts, facts he had to wait for a conscious Bulstrode to give.

"She's here and out of danger, Pans," he said into her hair. "Dumbledore, or Pomfrey for that matter, will not allow any more harm come to her."

Pansy nodded and stayed within his arms for a long time.

* * *

A week later, any embarrassment Draco felt was expelled by Pansy's need to be comforted. She came to him rather than Blaise and that pleased him more than anything, but he would never admit aloud.

Bulstrode was still lying unconscious in the hospital. Pansy was there with her when she wasn't in class. He knew she felt it was her fault. Guilty by association was the phrase.

Draco had told her that some times bad things just happen. She had snarled at him, "Just like what had happened to me?"

He'd said no. What happened to her was planned, but what happened to Bulstrode remained to be seen until she woke her ass up.

He didn't know what happened to Bulstrode. The last time he saw her was that Sunday before school started. He had escorted Pansy to Diagon Alley to meet with her. The girls had gone shopping. He had met with Blaise to pass the time. Then they had said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways. Nothing had been out of the ordinary.

Draco went over that memory again and again. Perhaps there was something he was missing. He used his Pensieve and vaguely remembered he had to let Granger use it. A flick of disgust coursed through him. He did not want that Mudblood's filthy memory in it.

_One thing at a time_, he counseled himself.

But going through the memory did not help. He could see nothing that he hadn't seen before and he had excellent situational awareness.

Snatching a spare parchment out of his schoolbag, he began to list everything he needed to do.

**Tell Pansy the memory was useless**

**Write Mother **

**Check in on Bulstrode**

**Finish Transfiguration essay**

**Let Granger pollute my Pensieve**

**Inform Snape of Bulstrode's condition**

**Draw up new patrolling schedules**

**Make sure Blaise eats a decent meal**

**Find a solution to the situation between Pansy and me ****QUICK!!**

Looking over the list, Draco sighed tiredly. There was much to do. He hardly knew where to start, but he had to pick something and go with it.

It wasn't as if he could put it all off. The essay was due Friday and it was Tuesday already. The patrolling schedules were needed for the next day's prefect meeting.

Blaise was taking Bulstrode's condition hard. He showed up in the Great Hall for meals, but his plate went untouched. He was barely functioning. Draco had to talk to him before any of the professors could.

He shared living quarters with Granger, so she could do her memory tonight.

He could write the letter to his mother tonight and in the morning send it off.

Snape required a daily report. Pansy was likely with Bulstrode right now. Kill two birds with one stone, more or less.

His mind made up, Draco left his room without addressing the last item on his list.

There were no options, no course of action that would lead to a suitable outcome other than the two that resulted in Pansy pregnant or Pansy dead. He could care less if Voldemort killed him if Pansy was alive and safe, but she was in danger. If he failed in this cursed assignment, she would have no protection at all.

Voldemort would not choose Blaise as his replacement. It was likely Blaise would join him in the afterlife for not encouraging Pansy and him to do as ordered. Though the more Draco thought of it, Blaise would probably be used as incentive for Pansy to cooperate. Torturing Blaise before her eyes would get Pansy to agree to anything.

No, he couldn't allow that to happen. Blaise was just as important as Pansy. Draco had to find a way to keep both safe. Blaise especially, as he was in no condition to ward off any attacks.

"Malfoy!" someone hissed at him, but before they could form the last syllable, he had already had his wand out and pointed at the dark corner where a tapestry hid an alcove. Whoever it was squeaked, "Wait!"

Face set in a hard mask, Draco ordered, "Come out."

Startled brown eyes and flame red hair, the youngest Weasley stepped out from behind the tapestry. "I'm sorry. I couldn't talk to you in front of anyone."

"You couldn't have just sent an owl like a normal person." Draco lowered his wand, though he kept it in his hand, not entirely sure that she was not a threat.

Her pale skin flushed, but she straightened her spine. "I had to see for myself."

Draco sneered. "See what for yourself?"

"That you've changed," she said, biting her lip. Her eyes looked him up and down.

_Appraising me like a horse_, he thought disgusted.

Arching his eyebrows, Draco asked, "Changed how? And speak quickly, Weaselette, for I find your voice annoying."

"You put on this act like you're above everything and everyone, but you and I know you're not." She tilted her head as she stepped closer. "Not since the term started."

The girl drew near, but stopped short when Draco raised his wand at her once more. He sneered, "Not another step closer. I don't want to be infected by a blood traitor."

A storm cloud gathered in her expression. The Weaselette lifted her chin. "We're not that different, Malfoy."

"Yes, we are," Draco smirked. "It's amusing that you do not see that we are as different as night and day."

"I can help you."

He scoffed. "I do not need the help of a traitor to her kind."

She froze for a moment before changing her demeanor. Her posture became alluring and her eyes drooped sleepily. Her hand slid up her torso, framed her small chest, and went to her hair. "Then maybe you can help me."

Watching her left an acrid taste in his mouth. "Move on to other prey, little Weasel. I'm sure there are others who can 'help' you."

"But I want you."

"I have little use for whores."

Her face paled before flushing as red as her hair. No longer caring if he held a wand, she lunged for him. Easily sidestepping her attack, Draco reached back and shoved her towards the wall, her direction and speed helping him.

Crashing into the wall, she slid down it. Shaking her head, she tossed her hair back and glared at him. "You'll pay for that, Malfoy. No one refuses me!"

"I just did," he stated calmly. "Now fifty points for attacking the Head Boy and another fifty for being a whore."

"No!" she cried.

A harsh male voice cut in. "What's going on here?"

Her face changed in an instant. The defiant expression changed to a tearful one. Her voice wavered. "Harry! Thank Merlin! Malfoy attacked me."

Unbelievable.

* * *

Pansy jerked awake.

She raised her head up from where she had laid it beside Milli's hand. She was still in the hospital wing.

What had woken her?

Standing, she went to the white curtained partition and peered beyond it.

Draco was sitting on a bed, head thrown back, teeth clenched, as Pomfrey applied something to his bare chest. His shoulders heaved and his hands were fisted in the bed sheets.

Pomfrey's hand went to the small tray on the bedside table and poured liquid on a bandage. The bandage disappeared between Pomfrey and Draco.

A grunt escaped Draco, harsh and raspy from his unwilling throat. Then he growled, "Damn it all, you old hag. What the hell are you doing, splashing acid on me?"

The nurse tsked. "Nothing so dramatic, Mr. Malfoy. Since you're talking, however, how did you come by this?"

"I told you. I was practicing the Cutting curse and it rebounded on me." His jaw clenched tightly. "Apparently, I don't have the movement down and keep your voice down, woman. You said Pansy is sleeping."

Unable to keep quiet when he was hurting, Pansy stepped out from behind the curtain and said, "Was sleeping." She stiffened when he directed his hardened gaze at her, but kept walking to him. "What happened?"

He opened his lips to respond, but suddenly hissed. "Merlin's balls! Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Pansy frowned and hurried to his side. She stopped short when she saw the angry red welts of what had been open cuts. Pomfrey had just smeared a fresh bandage over the last open cut. She could see the skin meld together and Pomfrey wiped off the blood.

"Draco, what happened?" she ordered.

Shifting his eyes towards Pomfrey, Draco said, "I was practicing hexes on the second floor. No dormitories, so there was no danger to anyone." Pomfrey scoffed quietly, so Draco amended, "Well, except to myself, of course."

"So, what, you just did a hex wrong and you dragged yourself here when blood is pouring out of your body?" she asked loudly, but she could see that he was lying.

"I didn't drag myself, Pansy," Draco grumbled.

"And no one helped you?"

Shrugging, Draco replied, "I didn't tell anyone, though I did pass a few people on the way like Potter and the youngest Weasley. You think I would ask them for help? Don't be stupid. The only place Potter would help me to is the nearest grave and that girl would make the experience all the worse with tart remarks. So, no. I got here myself."

Pomfrey barked, "Don't you say things like that, Mr. Malfoy. You are still a patient in my hospital and I will not take that kind of talk from any student, especially one such as you."

She meant the son of a Death Eater. Pansy bit her tongue to keep from shouting. She concentrated on deciphering his message.

He glared at the older woman. "So when do I get out of here then? I have things to do."

Pansy could only stare at the five fading welts on the right side of his chest. Potter did this? Why? Did that mean the uneasy truce between Draco and Potter was done? What did that female Weasley have to do with this? Make it worse with tart remarks?

She ignored Draco squabbling with Madame Pomfrey. Her mind searched for a meaning to his last comment. Tart remarks…sour, sarcastic remarks? No, that wouldn't make it worse. Tart remarks…maybe he only meant tart. Sarcasm wouldn't make it worse, so that could only mean in the sense of a prostitute, a whore.

The anger was a physical thing, spreading through her stomach and expanding upward through her chest until she felt it in her throat. Taking a deep breath, Pansy forced it back.

_Later_, she promised.

"You are not going anywhere, Mr. Malfoy. You need a Blood Replenishing potion and rest," Pomfrey said, handing him a glass of red liquid. "Drink up."

He muttered, "Old bat." Pansy slapped him on the shoulder. Draco scowled at her. "Hey, injured here!"

"Shut up," she snarled. Looking at Pomfrey, she asked, "How long is he going to stay?"

Pomfrey studied Draco for a moment. "I'd say until nightfall, but that is subject to change if he does not cooperate."

That gave her until nightfall to do what she had to do. "I'll go to the kitchens and order a tray for him. Is there anything he is restricted from?"

"_HE_ is still right here," Draco sniped. She flicked his ear. "Ow!"

The nurse's lips pursed in an effort to keep a smile off her face. "He needs liquid to help the potion do its work. Soup will do."

Smiling, Pansy nodded. Looking at Draco, she motioned him further up the bed. He scowled, but obeyed nonetheless. "You're not going to hover, are you?"

"Don't be an idiot, Draco. I'm not hovering." She pushed him back against the pillows and smoothed his hair back.

Cocking an eyebrow at her, he smirked. "You don't call this hovering?" Draco grabbed her hand when she pulled back. "We need to talk."

Suddenly nervous at his words, she looked away. Glancing up to see where Pomfrey disappeared to, Pansy stalled for time. "No, we don't."

"She's checking on Bulstrode," he supplied. "Speaking of which, I couldn't find anything in the memory. There's nothing we can do until she wakes up."

Meeting his silver eyes, she asked, "Are you sure? Maybe there's something in mine."

Draco shook his head. "It won't help. What happened to her likely happened when she returned home, but we need to talk about us."

Pansy nodded. She would do anything to get out of the hospital, away from his eyes. "Fine. We'll talk later."

She felt his eyes roam her face, searching for the lie. When he didn't find it, Draco said, "Later then."

Pansy smiled briefly at him before taking her leave.

First she would go to the kitchens. Then she would find Harry Potter.

* * *

**I actually had finished this chapter weeks ago, but things got jumbled and I forgot until ClumsyTonks pretty much hit me with a truck of a question. So thank her!**

**Hopefully I haven't lost all of my readers to my year and a half long absence. Tell me what you think, what you liked or what you disliked. If I'm not doing a good job of portraying anyone or something, then tell me. **

**So show your love. I appreciate any and all reviews. **

**TG**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike?**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

"_We need to talk about us."_

_Pansy nodded. She would do anything to get out of the hospital, away from his eyes. "Fine. We'll talk later."_

_She felt his eyes roam her face, searching for the lie. When he didn't find it, Draco said, "Later then."_

_Pansy smiled briefly at him before taking her leave. _

_First she would go to the kitchens. Then she would find Harry Potter._

**Chapter Sixteen**

It was Tuesday. Thanks to Draco's ever-present desire to get one over Harry Potter, Pansy knew that he would be in the library to study with Granger for two hours before going to dinner.

She only had the barest outline of a plan and that was if Ron Weasley was not there.

Find Potter and question him.

How to get him alone and get answers out of him was another story, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. She only knew he wouldn't respond to the subtlety Slytherins were known for. Blunt honesty (somewhat) was the way to go.

Her anger at what he had done to Draco was the only thing that had her staying on course toward him. She'd make him pay emotionally, if not physically.

Her soul still quaked at the thought of coming face to face with him. She was still quite affected by what he had done months ago. Draco usually kept himself between Pansy and Potter in and out of class, but his protection only went so far. He didn't know the look on Potter's face haunted her nightmares.

"Stop it, Parkinson," she whispered. The library doors loomed before her and she opened them before she could change her mind.

Guessing they were likely at Granger's table in the very back, she circled around, going through the bookcases. Slowing her stride, she heard Granger telling Potter to be quiet. Peering through the last bookcase, she saw only two heads, one bushy brown and one messy black. No redhead.

Thanking Merlin for small favors, she contemplated her next step, but there was no clear path she could take, so she decided to brazen it out. Drawing her wand, she muttered a silencing charm around the table.

Moving from the shadows, she leaned against the end of the bookcase. Crossing her arms to hide her wand, she said, "Granger, Draco needs to talk to you."

She hoped Draco would forgive her for sending Granger to him.

The other girl whipped her head around so fast Pansy was almost concerned that she sprained her neck. Potter looked up from his parchment across the table.

Granger frowned. "Why?"

"How should I know? He just said he had to talk to you," Pansy said, affecting a careless shrug. She could feel Potter staring at her, but she kept her eyes on Granger.

"Where is he? The Head common room?" she asked.

Pansy shook her head. "No, he's in the hospital wing." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Potter tensed. "I needed a book for that potions essay, but I didn't want to leave Milli. He said you were in here usually around this time, so he offered to stay with her while I did this."

"Okay." Granger turned and gathered up her books. "I'll be back, Harry. Are you going to stay a while longer?"

He looked from Pansy to his friend. "Yeah. If I don't do this now, I'll never do it."

Pansy watched with sick fascination as Granger rewarded him with a grin and a pat on the head before leaving, like a dog. Once the doors closed behind her, Potter turned back to her. Hesitance was written all over his face.

Panic threatened to bubble up inside her, but she thought of Draco's injuries and the anger returned. She fired first, uncrossing her arms and pointing her wand at Potter. "Incarcerous!"

Ropes appeared, tying Potter to his chair. He jerked in surprise and then struggled. "Hey! What are you—"

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she interrupted, voice low.

Confusion erased the hesitation. "What?"

"How dare you attack him! What did he do to you?" she growled, coming forward and resting her hands on the table. "Just because you're Harry fucking Potter, you think you can get away with anything!"

His wide green eyes suddenly narrowed. It was like watching a fireplace come to life with light. "Don't try to con me into thinking your precious Malfoy's an innocent. He attacked Ginny."

She digested that quickly. "Why?"

Potter tried to shrug. "How the hell should I know?"

She nearly growled with frustration. Stupid Gryffindors! Stalking around the table, she stood over him. "What did you see?"

"I saw her on the floor at the end of his wand, yelling no. Then I spoke up, asking what's going on. She said he attacked her. He denied it, of course. She said he wanted to talk to her, but she refused, so he got angry and shoved her to the ground. I couldn't let him get away with that, so I challenged him to a duel." A smug look pasted itself on his face. "I won."

Pansy clenched her fists. then she let one loose. Her fist caught his jaw. His head snapped back. "You bloody bastard! How can you say you're different from Voldemort when you find joy in causing pain as well?"

She shocked him. He spluttered, "Wh-what? He lost when I cast Expelliarmus."

"Did you use the Cutting Curse?"

"Yeah, at the beginning, but he shielded himself." At her look, he paled underneath his slight tan. "No. I did—he didn't…" He swallowed audibly. "But Ginny said—"

Grabbing him by the collar, she shook him. "You are so damn naïve! Do you really think he'd attack a girl after what happened to me?" That seemed to stop Potter's oncoming rant. Pansy let him go with a slight shove. He rocked back in his chair. "No, he wouldn't and, no, he didn't shield himself completely. He must have thrown it up and dove to the left, correct?"

It was a rhetorical question. Draco did dive to the left. That meant the curse would have rebounded against the shield and part of it must have caught him as he fell.

He nodded, green eyes dazed. "You said he was in the hospital wing."

"Pomfrey sorted him out, no thanks to you," she spat. Piercing him with her gaze, she asked, "It's not enough you hurt me, you had to hurt him too?"

He looked up at that. "I didn't think there was any other reason for it. She was on the ground and he had her at wand point!"

Time to stick it to him.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" she asked, feeling a little sad. "We're all the same to you, aren't we? Draco's another Voldemort and I'm just another Dark Witch in the making. You didn't care this summer when you saw me and you didn't care when we got here."

Potter scoffed, "Malfoy told me what happened. It wasn't your fault, but that doesn't give you the right to decide who—"

She shook off whatever pity she felt for him. He was blinded by who he was and what was expected of him. "The hell it does! Save that bullshit propaganda for someone who cares, Potter," Pansy sneered. "Do all of us a favor and stay with your precious Gryffindors. Slytherin has no need of you."

The color leached from his face. Her words sunk in. "Wait, don't do this."

She ignored him and went on. "The truce you had with us is over. You can thank that Weasley whore of yours for that." She turned to leave, but stopped short. Looking over her shoulder, she added, "Keep an eye on her. Don't trust her. She'll do your cause more harm than good."

Why she felt compelled to warn him, she didn't know, but it was done and could not be taken back.

* * *

His jaw ached.

For a girl, Pansy Parkinson sure packs a mean punch when she wants to. Harry guessed that he was lucky to have gotten away with just that one shot, but mentally, Parkinson tore him a new one.

Maybe that's why he was still thinking about her words hours later, staring into the fire in Gryffindor Tower. Hermione had found him and turned him loose. He told her it was a prank gone wrong.

He thought of what had led to Parkinson's lingering words. He was so sure that Malfoy attacked Ginny. She was like family to him. That was why he dueled with him. Harry had thought Malfoy was weakening, but he had chalked it up to wishful thinking. Now he knew that all the while they were fighting, Malfoy had been bleeding. That was why he was so pale at the end. It wasn't from shame of losing. It was blood loss.

_Parkinson's eyes were accusing. "We're all the same to you."_

Did he really think that?

The Slytherins were not evil. Most of them were caught in their circumstances of what families they were born into. Can he blame them for going with what they've been taught since they were babies? They didn't all hate, did they? They weren't killers.

_Adrian Pucey stood before Pansy Parkinson, the sobs shaking his entire body. Parkinson pointed her wand and green light shot out, enveloping Pucey for a second. He collapsed in a heap, limbs askew, his eyes dark and glittery with tears, but no light within them._

But that was different. Pucey raped her. He should have died, but with a trial. Not like that. Not with Voldemort watching him beg for mercy.

Pansy Parkinson was torn from her innocence. She appeared somewhat stronger than the years before. She wasn't weak, but would she be strong enough to stand against Voldemort?

Draco Malfoy was another story. He was not an innocent. Harry knew he had been there the night his wand had been taken, but he hadn't been able to prove it. Draco Malfoy was not Voldemort, but he was like Tom Riddle. The only difference was Draco Malfoy had people depending on him. Would that be enough to prevent Malfoy from following the same path?

But Harry couldn't forget the surge of vicious delight he'd felt when Malfoy lost. The other boy had stumbled, lost his focus for a second, but it was enough for Harry to disarm him.

Ginny had clung to his arm when he told Malfoy if he ever caught him near her again, he'd do more than disarm him. Harry had seen the burning hate in his gray eyes, turning them to molten silver. It wouldn't have caught his attention if Malfoy had been staring at him with that look.

No, he'd been glaring at Ginny.

Now that he thought of it, there were holes in her story big enough for Hagrid to walk through.

Malfoy had never spared her a second look unless it was to make fun of her in front of him. She was another tool for him to get under Harry's skin.

Harry knew Malfoy was a lot of things, but hitting girls was something he did not do, despite how annoying they were or if he hated them. Parkinson proved that in the past years. He was sure that Malfoy would not physically attack Ginny, or any other girl for that matter, either. Not without proper cause. Parkinson would have a fit and curse him for all she's worth if he did. He thought back to that day in Diagon Alley, when she hit Ron. No, he was positive Malfoy wouldn't do that.

_"Thank that Weasley whore of yours."_

That phrase circled his mind over and over. When she said it, it was all he could do to keep a scathing retort from leaving his lips.

Why had Parkinson said that? Like Malfoy, Ginny didn't register on her radar, but the only difference was that Ginny was nonexistent to Parkinson entirely since the term started. In the years before, she followed Malfoy's steps in only making fun of her when Harry or Ron was around, and even then, that was rare.

He hadn't been paying attention to what Ginny was doing recently, so could there be any truth to Parkinson's words? No, there couldn't be. Ginny wasn't like that. Yeah, she had a couple of boyfriends over the years, but she wasn't like that.

Talk would have reached either his ears or Ron's, even Hermione's, if she were. Something like that would have set Lavender and Parvati, Hogwarts' two most avid gossipers, off like firecrackers.

But that didn't explain what caused Malfoy to go on the offensive. Ginny had an explosive temper that sometimes got away from her. Did she say something? Maybe about Parkinson?

Malfoy was extremely protective of her. Harry had seen that for days after he taunted her of what he knew. He regretted doing that as she had rarely looked at him or in his direction for weeks. Rubbing his jaw, he supposed she got over it. She was just as protective of Malfoy.

So what happened? The question was driving him crazy, but Ginny was elsewhere and he was too lazy to get the Marauder's Map to see where she was.

His mind then turned to the other thing she had said. _"The truce you had with us is over."_

After his scuffle with Malfoy, there had been a sort of truce between Gryffindor and Slytherin. It was more of a stalemate than truce.

It wasn't even his idea in the first place. That was Malfoy. He didn't want Parkinson to become any more upset. Harry could understand that and he had Hermione's support in getting the rest of Gryffindor to ignore the Slytherins, who in turn ignored them.

He kind of liked not having to argue with Malfoy or deal with the general mutterings from the Slytherins. It made it easier to concentrate on his schoolwork when his mind wasn't being invaded by visions of Voldemort talking about a secret weapon in the works.

Now it was over thanks to him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands with a muttered curse.

All he had to do now was tell everyone to expect the worse tomorrow. Even if Malfoy said nothing to the Slytherins, Parkinson sure as hell would. The fire in her eyes guaranteed it.

Picturing the corridors and classrooms full of rampaging Slytherins out for Gryffindor blood, metaphorically speaking, had him slamming against the back of the sofa.

He closed his eyes. "Bugger me."

* * *

Draco sat in the Head common room, waiting for Pansy. It was close to dinner and he was hungry.

He stared into the burning fireplace grimly. He ignored the girl in the opposite armchair. All he wanted to do was go up to his room and sleep some more. Pomfrey had deemed him well enough to leave and kicked him out of the hospital wing without further ado.

She shifted and cleared her throat.

He closed his eyes and sighed quietly, trying to fight the annoyance bubbling up as it did whenever he was forced to be in close quarters to the girl. _Where the hell is Pansy?_

Sending Granger to him when he was still weak from blood loss was something he wanted to yell at her for, but somehow she either knew he wanted to speak with the girl or she did it to punish him for something or other. Thank Merlin he had moved to the bed next to Bulstrode's.

Masking his weariness, he had sat up and told Granger he wanted to do the Pensieve when he got out. Granger had gotten huffy about something, going on about if that was all he wanted to tell her, then why didn't Parkinson tell her that in the library. He gave her his best blank look because, in all actuality, he had no idea what Pansy was up to. So he'd dismissed Granger and she left in a snit.

The armchair squeaked when she moved again. Granger asked, "Where is she?"

"Stop your chattering," he sniped, knowing it would wind her up. "She'll be here." Draco silently added _she better be._

She scoffed. "All I asked was where she is! That's not chattering!"

"Yet you're blathering on right now," he pointed out. "I don't know what you call it in that filthy muggle world you lived it, but here in mine, we call it chattering."

"Ooh!" Her dark eyes flashed with anger and loathing. "You can be such a jerk! I just want to get this over and done with."

He put a bored look on his face. "Excuse me. I forgot we were taking up precious study time. Is Pince missing her pet?"

Granger's eyes flashed with anger. "No, but I think Voldemort is missing his."

Draco stood so fast that the armchair went back a couple of inches. Granger jumped and pressed herself into her chair, almost as if she were hoping to fade into it. He crossed to her and leaned down on the armrests, trapping her.

"Look here, you prissy little bitch," he snarled. "Just because we agreed to a truce does not give you the right to make assumptions about things you have no idea of."

The tip of her wand pressed against his chest, forcing him back, away from her. Draco cursed himself for not watching her hands.

Granger stood then, forcing him another couple steps back. Her fingers tightened on her wand. Eyes defiant, she said, "Then watch your words, bouncing ferret, before I forget we have a truce."

"If that was supposed to be a threat, you are sorely lacking in intimidation," Draco sneered. She had surprised him, but he was not overly worried about she might do to him. Pansy was due any time and Granger, ever the straitlaced Gryffindor, would not do anything that might result in losing her Head Girl position.

She narrowed her eyes.

He smirked.

They stood that way for what felt like hours.

"Am I interrupting anything?" a cold voice queried.

Granger started and looked away. A glare formed on her face. He didn't like it, so Draco snatched her wand away. She gasped in outrage, turning back to him. "Malfoy!"

He glanced sideways; slightly surprised at the tone she had taken when usually she spoke quite warmly. She was angry. "About time you showed up, Pans."

She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she shrugged. "I was with Blaise. He wants us to swing by the common room before we go to dinner."

Her voice warmed a little and fire danced in his veins at his best friend's name, but before he could say a word, Granger distracted him. She made a grab for her wand and he held it high above her head. "Bastard! Give me my wand!"

He sneered at her, "What's the matter, Granger? Big Bad Draco too much for you?"

Pansy snorted. Granger ignored her. "Oh, please! Don't make me laugh."

He winked at Pansy just to see her roll her eyes. "Tell her I'm big and very bad."

Her smirk fell off her face, lips parted, and her eyes widened, making the blue stand out. Horror, followed quickly by a number of other emotions, flitted across her features before settling on embarrassment.

Draco couldn't help it. "That blush is very becoming on you."

Then a mountain troll hit him. He hit the ground hard. The air left his lungs in swift _whoosh_. He gasped, barely aware that Granger's wand was tugged out of his hand. All he could do was try to breathe and that was hard with a ton of bricks sitting on his chest.

"Get off him." The words were spoken coldly.

Gasping for air, Draco opened his eyes to see whose words was ice. Eyes glacial and gleaming with unholy light, Pansy stood over him. Granger was looking up at her, frozen in place.

"Did you hear me? _GET OFF!_"

Granger snapped back to reality and scrambled off of him. Draco managed to get a full lung's worth of air. Pansy knelt beside him and helped him into a sitting position, which set his newly healed side aflame. He knew she saw his wince when her hand passed over him and she turned to glare at the other girl.

"What?" Granger asked crossly.

Pansy said nothing, preferring to help him into the armchair he'd been sitting in before. Instead of asking if he was okay, she asked, "Is everything ready?"

By that she meant if he was good to continue. Draco nodded. "Yeah, the Pensieve is in my room."

She tilted her head at his raspy voice. Giving him a couple more seconds to recover, he watched her turn back to Granger. "You could have hurt him."

The same frozen tone she used sent a shiver down his spine, though he hid it well. Why was she speaking like that to Granger? Did Granger offend her in some way when she went to the library? Or was it something else? His irrational hope of it being because of him was small and he shut it out before it could become bigger.

"Just like you could have hurt Harry," Granger spat back.

_Wait, what?_ Draco peered from Pansy to Granger.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pansy asserted.

"Don't think me stupid, Pan-Parkinson. You were alone with Harry in the library after I left. When I got back, he was tied up!"

Draco didn't show his surprise, but inside he stopped cold. Pansy was with Potter? He could still remember the way she clung to him, shivers racking her body.

"Tied up? And you're blaming me for that?" Pansy scoffed. "Trust me, I would have done a lot more than tie him up."

Granger's hair seemed to come alive from all the tension in her body. "I know it was you! You-you Slytherin!"

Pansy crossed her arms. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Draco finally found his voice again, having caught his breath. He stood and placed a hand on Pansy's shoulder and squeezed, silently telling her to stop. "Granger, knock it off."

Dark brown eyes glowered at him through dark lashes. Her lips compressed into a bloodless line. "Whatever."

Pansy shifted her weight. "Let's get this over with."

Draco summoned his Pensieve without any more problems, and in hindsight he realized he should have brought it out sooner, so that Granger could have focused on it.

Granger drifted close when the Pensieve was settled on one of the worktables. Draco caught her eyes and nodded, signaling her to withdraw the memory. She touched the wand tip to her temple and withdrew a silvery thread that danced upon a nonexistent breeze. The memory slipped within the clear liquid of the Pensieve.

He stifled the snarling remark of tainting something of his. He had just diffused the tension between the girls. It wouldn't do to escalate the situation between him and Granger. He still had to live with the girl.

Pansy took a piece of parchment out of her robes and he recognized it as the one she had brought back weeks ago. He knew each of the spells written on them and the counter spell as well.

Granger gestured for them to come with her as she drew her memory to the surface.

Silently heaving a sigh, he grasped Pansy's hand as he leaned forward.

* * *

In the Slytherin common room, Blaise sat in one of the armchairs before the roaring fireplace that poured heat into the cold room, his robes draped across the back. He stared into the burning logs, thinking his anger was just as hot and justified. Behind him he could hear students filling into the room.

He had called a meeting of his house. He was perfectly within his right to do so and he knew his house would follow his orders. Besides, he was the only one who could do it. Draco and Pansy had that thing with Granger. He should have been there, too, but he cried off with an excuse of not getting his latest Transfiguration essay done.

The plan was simple. Blaise would tell them the truce with Gryffindor was broken and why. Pansy had wanted to tell them after dinner, before the next day, but Blaise had suggested before going to dinner. That way the entire house could walk into the Great Hall together in a sign of unity.

Blaise knew that youngest Slytherins would take to the news with joy. It was the older ones, specifically the fifth and sixth years that would have problems. With no distractions from the Gryffindors, they were able to get their work done. They had a more peaceful time studying in the library and as they had more time to prepare, they were able to answer more questions in classes, bringing up House points, especially since hardly any were being taken off for fighting.

As much as he would have wanted the truce to continue, he couldn't ignore the blatant violation that had happened that afternoon between Draco and Potter. He knew for a fact that Draco didn't start what had happened. It was Hot-Head Potter, which is just predictable since that tart Weaselette was involved. Traitors stick to traitors.

"We're all here, Zabini, except for Draco and Parkinson."

He glanced up at Gregory Goyle. "That's fine. They know."

Goyle merely nodded and moved to join the rest.

Blaise took a moment to stir up the internal fires of his anger. He thought about Draco fighting Potter without him to back him up. He thought of Potter scaring Pansy. He thought of Milli lying in the Hospital Wing, still unconscious. He thought of Dumbledore, that fucking Gryffindor, not doing a single fucking thing to help her get better!

He cleared his throat and stood up easily, still facing the fireplace. He could feel the entire House watching his every move. When the silence began to stretch, he turned to face them.

His eyes need time to adjust to the dim lighting, so he covered that by gazing upon each and every face. He started with his year and went down the line. The common room was pretty much segregated by year. The oldest, the seventh years, were on his immediate right. The sixth years, the fifth, and so on continued until the first years ended on his left.

He knew his eye contact with each and every one of them unnerved them. He was known mainly as the Joker of the House. To see him so serious now made them uneasy, shifting their weight and casting worried glances disguised as bored looks to one another.

Not a word was spoken. The room was silent save the occasional popping of firewood and shuffled feet on the carpet.

Blaise lifted his head. "Thank you all for being here so close to dinner time. You may have noticed that Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson are not present. They had other pressing business to take care. They know about this meeting and are aware of what it is about.

"Now I called this meeting as something of importance has happened this afternoon. Some of you may have heard about it in the halls, and for those of you who did not. It involves Draco Malfoy, but that is not the reason he is not here. A Gryffindor, Ginny Weasley, approached him this afternoon. When he rebuffed her advances, she attacked him and he was forced to touch her person. She landed on the ground and that is when Harry Potter came upon them."

He let the scenario sink into their minds and then continued. "We all know Potter is extremely protective of his friends and of those in his House. So when he saw the little sister of his best friend on the ground with a Slytherin standing over her with his wand pointed at her, he challenged Draco Malfoy to a duel."

The sixth and seventh years murmured among themselves. They knew what that implicated.

"If you have not already guessed, I inform you now that the truce we had with Gryffindor is broken." Gasps and whispers flew about the common room, but they quieted down when Blaise held out his hands. "You may hear things whispered, perhaps even said outright, but know this! WE, Slytherin, did not make the first move!" His voice rose in volume as anger gave it strength. "It was Gryffindor that forced us once again to defend ourselves and our honor!

"But they say we have no honor. They say we are untrustworthy. They say we are evil." He paused and glanced at his year. "They say we are Death Eaters, either are or in the making." Blaise glanced down and back up at his House. "They say a lot of things about Slytherin, but I have yet to see anyone from any other House make an effort to know any of us, save a few Ravenclaws.

"They sit on their high horses and judge us. They wash their hands of blame and wonder why so many Slytherins have turned Dark." He looked to the first and second years. Their eyes looked old set against their young faces. "I do not mean to frighten you, only to warn you." Some of their heads tilted up bravely, chins high in defiance. He glanced at the older students. "They have never trusted us. They have never given us any chance to be great. Our own Head of House is frowned upon and whispered about. Nothing about Slytherin is safe from their judging eyes and whispers.

"So I say fuck them. Fuck all of them. They are the untrustworthy ones, especially the Gryffindors. They are the worst of them all. We keep our word. They break theirs. They look down upon us as if we do not belong here. We have every right to be here." He knew his eyes flashed with anger. "So I am fucking glad this pitiful truce is over. We all knew they would be the first to break it." Heads nodded.

Heads turned when the common room entrance slid open and Draco and Pansy walked in. Draco's eyes were angry. Pansy must have told him about the meeting, but Blaise knew Draco would never interrupt in spite of what he was feeling.

The third and fourth years parted to make way for them. Draco led Pansy through by the hand, which caused eyebrows to go up. Draco stopped next to Blaise and nodded for him to continue.

Blaise nodded in return and looked forward once more, glancing at the clock on the wall. Six o'clock. He better wrap this up if they were to make their point.

"Dinner is being served right now as I speak. They're all probably wondering where the entire House of Slytherin is. That was the intention of having this meeting right before. They think we tear each other apart for one thing or another. That may have be true," he said, gaining a few chuckles. "But for now it isn't."

He scoffed harshly. "That fucking Sorting Hat wants unity? We'll show them unity! Slytherin will pull together and show them that we are strong!" The seventh years shouted in approval, the younger years joining. "We don't need them!" More shouts. "We never needed them!" The shouting was even louder. "Slytherin needs no other House!"

The sound was deafening and every single student was on his or her feet, stomping and shouting.

Blaise glanced at Draco. Draco merely smirked at him. Pansy smiled to herself, satisfied with their House's reaction.

Draco took a step and Blaise moved to the side, allowing him to take the stage. At the change of leaders, the common room quieted down once more.

Draco looked around the common room. "I will not repeat what Zabini has said. He has said what had to be said. Now we will go to dinner like the good little students we are and fuck what the teachers will say. They have probably already sent Snape down here to find out what's going on. With him at the head of our group, that only pushes the point deeper."

Blaise noticed that while Draco had let go of Pansy's hand to step forward, his friend had reached back and grasped her hand once more. She moved ahead to stand equal with him, which, again, did not go unnoticed.

Blaise fell into step behind Draco as the Prince of Slytherin led his House out of their common room and into battle, a sad smile playing across his lips. He thought Milli would have loved to see this.

* * *

**Ack! Another long update!**

**I've realized I can only apologize so many times for long updates, so I'm not going to. **

**I just hope what Pansy did Potter met your standards. I thought Potter wouldn't respond as well to physical pain as he would emotionally. As they say, emotional pain cuts deepest. **

**Until next time!**

– **TG**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Harry Potter. I am merely playing with them while wishing they were mine, especially Draco. Heh heh heh heh…**

**Plot:**** Everyone writes Pansy Parkinson as a big, whiny, and ugly brat, but what if she wasn't? In one awful night, she lost her family and hardly anyone understands what she is going through. How will Pansy get through the summer and her last year at Hogwarts when the Dark Lord is getting ready for one last strike?**

**Helpless**

_Last time…_

_Draco took a step and Blaise moved to the side, allowing him to take the stage. At the change of leaders, the common room quieted down once more._

_Draco looked around the common room. "I will not repeat what Zabini has said. He has said what had to be said. Now we will go to dinner like the good little students we are and fuck what the teachers will say. They have probably already sent Snape down here to find out what's going on. With him at the head of our group, that only pushes the point deeper." _

_Blaise noticed that while Draco had let go of Pansy's hand to step forward, his friend had reached back and grasped her hand once more. She moved ahead to stand equal with him, which, again, did not go unnoticed._

_Blaise fell into step behind Draco as the Prince of Slytherin led his House out of their common room and into battle, a sad smile playing across his lips. He thought Milli would have loved to see this._

**Chapter Seventeen**

The Great Hall whispered fiercely when the entire Slytherin House was missing from its table.

Harry took that as a very, _very_ bad sign. He still had yet to warn the rest of his house, preferring to put it off until after dinner. Now it seems the choice had been taken out of his hands.

There was another thing that was currently worrying him. Hermione had sat down across from him not five minutes ago and she had yet to speak a word to anyone beyond a nod or shake of her head.

Harry studied her and noticed that she avoided looking up from the table, though she did look from side to side. She just didn't look at him.

"Come on, where is the bloody food?" someone grumbled darkly beside him.

Harry glanced next to him and amended his thought. _Or Ron._

There hadn't been any fights at all that Harry knew of between any of them, so her not looking at them was very odd.

Ron's elbow jabbed him suddenly. Harry leveled a half-hearted glare at his best friend, to which said best friend gave him a shrug. "Sorry, mate. I'm just hungry is all, and waiting on those sodding Slytherins is not helping."

Harry glanced at the staff's table. Professor Dumbledore was looking serene as usual, but he noticed there was a slight frown tugging at his features. The twinkle normally present in Dumbledore's eyes were decidedly absent, as was Snape.

He heard Seamus Finnegan ask Dean Thomas if he thought the Slytherins were stuck in their dormitory, to which Dean scoffed no.

His heart began to pound. Oh God, how was he going to survive in Gryffindor? This night might end up being his last thanks to his impulsiveness.

"Harry, you okay? You look sick." Ginny Weasley sat across from him, next to Hermione. Harry was positive that if she could, she would have laid a hand on his arm and rubbed lightly.

The more attention he paid to Ginny, the more he couldn't entirely refute Parkinson's words. He heard more suggestion in her words than ever, and it wasn't accidental, like how she usually played it.

But maybe that's because he was looking for it and the things she normally said he _thought_ was suggestive because he wanted them to be. No, not for his pleasure. Harry had the feeling he wanted Parkinson's claim to be true so that he could blame her for his actions.

If she had come on to Malfoy, she obviously didn't care if he was a Death Eater. He was dangerous and she still made a play for him. His anxiety for the coming days turned to anger towards the youngest Weasley.

Parkinson was right. He was going to have to watch her. He shoved the hurt away.

"What the hell is taking so long?" someone said loudly behind him. Harry turned to glance at the Ravenclaw table. Then he looked up to the staff to see if they heard him.

McGonagall was frowning sternly, but she did not say a word. She leaned close to Dumbledore to whisper something.

Harry narrowed his eyes. Something was going on. Just as he turned to tell Ron, he heard it. The entire Hall heard it and their whispers stilled as they strained to hear more.

It was low at first, but it steadily grew louder. It sounded like…marching.

His stomach dropped as he realized what it was.

Seconds later, the whole Slytherin House marched into the Great Hall, silent and determined.

Malfoy, Parkinson, and Zabini waited at the door with Snape as the rest of their House took their seats at their table. Malfoy and Zabini shared a nod with Snape once their entire House was seated. Then the three students moved to the table to take the three empty spaces at the middle of the long table.

It was then that Harry, along with the rest of the Great hall, noticed that Malfoy held Parkinson's hand. The Slytherin three sat down, Malfoy and Zabini flanking Parkinson. Snape walked down the Hall to take his own at the staff's table. He sat down at the end closest to his table.

Harry swallowed, that tingly feeling starting at the small of his back clawed its way up his spine. He was in such deep shit.

* * *

If Draco was a softhearted, cuddly teddy bear he might have been inclined to hug each and every child in his House. Hell, he would have risked his manhood to give Snape, that moody broody bastard, a hug as well.

However, he was not. Instead he allowed his gaze to touch each and every child, pride shining in his eyes. Outright shows of emotions were not dignified for a Slytherin.

He conveniently forgot every angry outburst he had when confronted with Potter and his sidekicks.

Draco didn't say he was proud of his House. He didn't have to. Slytherin had its own brand of honor, its own kind of pride that many outside of the House would not understand.

No mocking words, no sneering insults were directed at each other. That was a kind gesture bestowed upon each other. Slytherins had their reputations to protect after all. It wasn't much, but it was theirs.

Pansy shifted beside him and he glanced at her.

He saw the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and he felt the sudden want to kiss her.

He turned to look the other way at that.

Draco couldn't touch Pansy, though he had to, though he was ordered to. Time was running out and he had no idea how to handle this situation.

He pushed it away to think about later. For now, he just wanted to bask in the knowledge that Slytherin was united for a single cause.

He looked across the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table.

Confident pale blue eyes met anxious bordering on despair emerald green eyes.

Draco lifted his goblet to Potter with a smirk.

* * *

Ron was beginning to worry that Harry was about to have another episode relating to He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named. His best friend was breathing fast and shallow.

"Mate, you okay?"

Harry swallowed several times and nodded jerkily. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

He frowned and leaned close. "Are you sure?" He looked around to make sure the people surrounding them were busy eating, which he wanted to be doing. "It's not because of your scar, is it?"

Harry jumped, touching his forehead reflexively. "What? No, no. I'm just a little anxious is all. Nothing at all to worry about. Nothing at all!"

Ron watched dumbfounded as Harry's wide-eyed gaze shot around the Great Hall before jamming a dinner roll in his mouth.

"Okay then."

* * *

She stared at her plate, concentrating on not looking up.

She ate mechanically, not giving what she put in her mouth much thought.

She couldn't think. To think was bad. Thinking led to feeling and she couldn't feel, not now.

She would wait until she could get to her room.

Then she would let the tears come. Then she would let herself think. Then she would let herself feel.

There was only one thought circling Hermione's mind that kept breaking through the wall she put up on her emotions.

_It was him! It was him! Why?_

* * *

It was in hindsight that Ginny realized that going after Draco Malfoy was a BAD idea, both for her own person and that of her entire House.

Her one-track mind once again landed her in a lot of trouble. Maybe this time beyond all repair.

She sighed as she moved her food around her plate. Was it her fault that he could walk around looking like that? His looks should have been against the law, at the very least banned from public. He was dangerous to a girl's virtue.

Ginny half turned, hoping to get a glimpse of Malfoy. She found herself locked in the blue-eyed stare of one Pansy Parkinson.

Parkinson's eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted in a sneer. Ginny felt herself grow very small inside at the intensity and the accusation present in those eyes. The promise of pain made her breath catch in her throat.

Yet another reason why Malfoy was a bad idea for a conquest.

She had the feeling that if she tried again, no one would ever find her body.

Breaking contact, her gaze went to Parkinson's left, to the smirking dark-haired boy. Well, if she couldn't have one, she could try for the other.

* * *

Blaise watched Potter hyperventilate on his own thoughts with decidedly satisfaction. The grin that was dying to get out was held ruthlessly back, a concession to the Slytherin show-no-emotion ideal for tonight. Tomorrow was a whole new day and he was aching to take open pleasure in hexing Dumbledore's Golden Boy.

Getting caught wasn't as big a worry it normally would have been. Hell was about to break loose. How can any one person hold back such rancor? Any ten people?

Once the first shot was taken, it was open season. Detention was no deterrent. Expulsion was worth it.

He glanced at the Weasel's worried face and thought he would be a much better target. Perhaps he would give him some lovely red skin to go with that hideous red hair. No, green skin with red boils was a better contrast.

Blaise looked at Granger and felt his anticipation die just a little. She was looking down at her plate, ignoring everyone around her.

Now that he thought about it, she hadn't looked up once since he sat down. What was her deal?

A quick look at the other two thirds of the Golden Trio said no one was paying her any attention.

He turned to Pansy. "What's with Granger?"

* * *

Pansy didn't let Granger affect her good mood, though she did feel a little sorry for the girl. That kind of thing could screw with one's head if they didn't deal with it properly.

She made a mental note to make it known that no one was to touch Granger with anything more serious than a tripping charm. The girl would be given time to get her head on straight. It was the least she could do.

Draco would object. She was sure of it, but she could make him see things her way. After all, he had declared to their entire House that she was his.

Amazing what a little thing like handholding could convey. He thought her his equal. He had given her respect and appreciation.

If he had held her by the waist or shoulder, she was naught but his plaything. Taking her by the arm meant she was his possession. Anything he wanted her to be, she was. There were very few girls in that last position.

Pansy wondered how things would have turned out if Draco had taken her by the arm in a House meeting years ago. She had made him angry enough to do so a number of times, yet he never had.

She wondered why that was.

* * *

He watched her eat with a concealed eye.

Something was wrong with her. She wasn't the bundle of nervous energy that she was usually. She just sat there.

He looked down the table at his latest conquest. She was quiet and avoided anyone's gaze.

That was the proper way a woman should act. He looked back at her, the one he wanted.

He would never have her. He knew that. The minute he broke her, she wouldn't be what drew him to her in the first place.

Though it had been a mistake that she stumbled onto him, her spirit, and the look in her eyes, kept his thoughts on her. He had come to see it as fate.

One day soon, he'd take her. She belonged to him.

* * *

She wandered the darkness, searching for a way out, a bit of light.

Time was a jumble here, though where _here_ was she didn't know.

She just had to get out.

She had to warn… She stopped and thought hard.

Who was she supposed to warn, and warn about what?

She was drawing a huge blank. She couldn't remember who or what or why.

Something was going to happen, something she had endured great pain to learn about.

She tilted her head. What did she learn?

It was bad. She knew that at least.

It was why she had fought the pitch-black dark that pulled at her strength and will.

There was a reason she kept going.

She just had to remember it.

* * *

**Okay, so I was drowning in how to continue this story. I decided to do a multi-POV type chapter to get those creative juices going again after Harry's part, which I had written months ago!**

**Think you can guess who the last two characters are? I'm sure you will all get who the last one is, but the one before that? **

**Stop your hating. I know you all love puzzling questions and ragging on me for taking so long to update. **

**TG**


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